


You Never Asked

by Bardic



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo Baggins, BAMF Hobbits, Fae Bilbo Baggins, Hobbits have secrets, M/M, No Details, No actual assault and it is vague, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slight mention of assault, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29335227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bardic/pseuds/Bardic
Summary: In the beginning Arda was ever changing. New races seemed to pop up everywhere and new life could happen with the snap of a finger. It was straight forward and the Valar never seemed to run out of ideas. They worked together and insured a world where life could grow. So life did.The history of Arda is well documented, strict and although feuds pop up everywhere everyone can agree Elves were the first race ever created and through them Arda became what it is today with the help of Dwarrow and Man. There's nothing more to it. Right?
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 48
Kudos: 110





	1. This is Why You Bring a Hobbit

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something new here. Mixing some new fantasy elements in while also toying around with ideas and new twists to the story. I hope you enjoy!

“Bilbo it seems we’ll have need of your skills far sooner than I expected.”

“Gandalf you’re a menace.”

This conversation took place in hushed tones between the company’s burglar and the wizard and Thorin was quickly losing patience. 

“We could take them.”

“You would die before you raised an axe Master Dwalin.” the burglar said quickly before he went back to arguing with the wizard. The rest of the company moved eyes between the two arguing and their current predicament wearily. 

The soft lilting of an instrument unknown floated through the air over the heads of fifty wolves who growled low in their throats in a deadly melody. 

The Company had startled upon them quite unexpectedly, drawn by music, curiosity, and hopes for a good camp they hadn’t expected to find a figure serenading wolves. They also hadn’t expected Gandalf to yell at them all to put down their weapons when they first stumbled upon the scene. The wolves hadn’t attacked, yet but Gandalf’s behavior struck them all as odd. The Halfling’s behavior even more so, but the halfling was already an unknown variable in all this. 

“They’re your cousin!”

The halfling reeled back with a huff. Thorin was immediately on guard at the open hostility the halfling showed towards Mirthrandir. Wait, cousin?

“Be that as it may, they are here for a reason. Disrespecting such a ritual is a sure way of making sure we never leave this place. I am not a representative of this company and as such it’d be an insult for me to speak with them.”

“Gandalf!” Thorin barked at the wizard, “What do you two speak of?”

“This is one of the reasons I wanted him along.” the wizard motioned across the clearing to the figure, “Trails not traveled are never safe, and no matter the superstitions one may use those of the woods are fiercely protective of what they guard.”

“You’re full of Toby Gandalf.”

Thorin looked over their burglar, intrigued by the first sign of any sort of strength they’d seen thus far. Thorin looked back to the wizard, “What do you speak of?”

The wizard huffed, “The fair folk Master Oakenshield. We speak of the fair folk.”

“Like faeries?” Kili asked as he glanced back over to the figure across the clearing. 

The halfling huffed, “Not at all like fairies, at least not your superstitions of them.”

“Then what, Halfling.”

The halfling stared at him hard for a minute. “The fair folk rarely if ever interact with the outside world. The current reason we’re stuck in this predicament is because we followed something we shouldn’t have.” The halfling looked away to shake his head, “In truth we are lucky we were not torn apart immediately for our intrusion.”

“What intrusion?”

The halfling looked to Ori, “They are in mourning Master Ori.” He looked across the clearing with a contemplative look on his face, “Although I will admit the wolves are not the usual.”

“You have experience with this?” Thorin asked steadily as he wondered just what they were dealing with. Faeries were not well regarded amongst the dwarves, a tale to caution why you never go into the woods alone. Hell they compared them to the damned tree shaggers on the regular.

The halfling nodded. “Plenty.” he sighed and deflated slightly, “they’re my cousin.”

The dwarves stared at him for a long moment, a few shuffling away slightly, Ori being pulled further by Dori. He seemed to note their movements without even a blink or grimace, interesting. 

“Although dwarrow tales of them are exaggerated and completely wrong a lot of the time,” he glanced at them all quickly eyes glinting in the moonlight before he looked toward the figure again, “they do not overstate the danger that is fae. Although that’s true for any species there are such stories of.” The halfling smiles slightly, “The fae themselves have many stories of the dangers of the rest of the races.”

Thorin takes a quick glance at the still playing figure and turns back to the halfling. “You said they are your cousin?”

The halfling nodded, “Yes, although all fae will call a hobbit cousin.”

“You can speak to them on our behalf then.”  
The halfling shakes his head immediately. “I am not a representative of this company, nor am I, according to section five of the contract, considered a full member.” the halfling stares at him for a long moment, “If you send me it’s an insult. Though cousins we may be, they do not appreciate being snuffed or diminished.”

The halfling pauses here, “A trait all fair folk share, but especially those of high standing.”

Thorin takes a glance, “Of high standing?”

“Yes, and above all else they are high standing.”

Thorin looks at the wizard over the halfling’s head, he turns and looks at his Company. All of them are either shaking their heads or looking at him steadily, waiting for him to make a decision. When he turns back to the halfling he is staring wistfully after the being he calls cousin. 

Thorin takes a deep breath, “What would you suggest I do?”

The halfling looks back to him, “Honestly?”

Thorin nods.

“You send someone who won’t give insult, someone who knows what they’re doing and can walk through the wolves without hesitation or fear.”

“Like you?”

“Sending me is an insult due to my standing-that’s-not-standing within this Company. The trial of wolves I have faced many times, but I can not face this if I am not a Company member in full.”

Thorin thinks it over, that stipulation in the contract had been a safeguard should the halfling become greedy and try to stick around when it all ended. It had been added to guarantee he could not be accepted as a citizen of Erebor after it was reclaimed. He hadn’t expected it to bite him in the ass if the halfling was needed for anything diplomatic. 

The halfling stared at him steadily. 

The wizard behind the halfling raises an eyebrow and Thorin huffs. “Amend the contract.”

The halfling shakes his head. “I’ll make sure not to try and achieve citizenship after all this if that makes it easier.”

Thorin and the Company look at him in shock. It hadn’t even been mentioned in the contract that he was denied such a thing by not being a full member. The halfling raises an eyebrow at their shock, “Oh come on, do you honestly think I wouldn’t understand what being labelled a non-member of the company in a contract to reclaim a homeland would do?”

The wizard’s shoulders are shaking with laughter despite Thorin’s stormy expression. 

Balin seems to be the first one to come out of his shock as he nods. “That’s agreeable. I must admit Master Baggins I was unaware you knew our laws regarding citizenship. I would ask why you did not mention it in the beginning?”

The halfling shrugged, “I didn’t care, and you never asked.”

Balin nods and pulls the contract from inside his coat, “It’s an easy enough thing to fix Master Baggins, just sign here.”

The halfling looks it over and nods, signing it quickly before Balin hands it to Thorin. Thorin glances at it and signs, there’s nothing saying he can’t request citizenship at any point now and with that he’s considered a full member. He can no longer disregard his safety and pretend it’s because he’s an outsider. 

Thorin sighs, “It’s now up to you Master Baggins.”

The halfling nods and moves forward without hesitation to the throng of growling wolves. He says nothing as he approaches and Thorin waits for them to spring on him, only they don’t. The wolves make a part through them and the halfling walks through without worry or concern as the wolves calm in his wake. 

It’s almost like magic watching him make his way through animals twice his size with quicker reflexes than him. The Company is gaping and the wizard simply smiles as the halfling makes his way to the figure. When he reaches the small opening the figure stands in, he waits. The figure continues playing for a few moments before glancing over at him.

Thorin sees no details from so far away, but he does catch the nod the figure gives before returning to their playing. The halfling nods back and settles himself on his knees, sitting straight up and waiting as the figure continues. 

Many minutes pass and the Company grows restless, pausing when the song finally ends. The figure lets the final note ring out in finality before turning to address the halfling. 

The words are faint and barely heard as the two converse. The halfling has not moved and the figure still stands. The halfling must mention them because they find their selves glanced at periodically. The figure nods and the wizard sighs. 

“We have been allowed to make camp as long as we respect her wolves and promise them no harm.”  
Thorin nods and glances at the Company, they all agree and nod in tandem when the figure looks back over. 

The wizard is the first to walk forward, bowing slightly to their host as the wolves move from his path. Thorin follows more slowly, nodding with a slight bow at the figure, the Company following his lead. The halfling is still sat down and the figure nods and bows to them as well. 

“I bid you welcome in my camp, although I will admit I was not expecting any to stumble upon us.” The voice sweeps over all of them, not what any of them expected from far away, although looking closer they should not be surprised. 

Where before the figure had looked like an elf up close they held themselves far differently than any elf any of the Company had ever met. Their white hair was long and braided over many times, in a style heavily reminiscent of their own braids. They stood as tall as Thorin if not a little shorter, and instead of light armor they wore many furs and pitch black armor made of a material none could recognize. 

“You may call me Many, for I have many names, and yet I claim none as my own for they were given to me by those long dead, and I will continue to be Many until my true name is found.”

A confusing statement, but at least it was something. 

“Thorin Oakenshield.”

Many looked him over with a critical eye before turning to the halfling and inclining their head in Thorin’s direction. “I thought you stopped signing contracts, fair thief. You are supposed to be retired.”

The halfling shrugs, “What can I say. I got bored.”

“You mean you plan to head North and decided killing a dragon on the way would be a good warm up for your return.”

The halfling smiles, “I will admit it had crossed my mind, and it is my usual.”

Thorin looks between the two confused as Many laughs.

“You mean killing the monster, faking your death, and then returning to your work.”

The halfling nods, “As usual.”

“As usual.”

The wizard snorts, “It is a pleasure to see you again Lady Hunt,” and Thorin’s hair stands on end at the name, “I will admit I had not expected to run into any of your kind ever again.”

Many smiles, all teeth and aren’t those sharp as they-she regards the wizard. “I will admit I had not planned to be this far south ever again, but” they glance over the wolves, “accidents happen.”

The halfling snorts from his spot, “Of course. Do I get to know or am I gonna be left in the dark?”

Many laughs, “You’ll have to see in the morning. We were actually working our way to the Shire.”

“Oh no, what did you lot do this time that was so bad you need to come get me?” 

Many shrugs, “I’ve no clue. I got bare minimum on details, just enough to try and fix it.”

The halfling raises an eyebrow and Many simply shrugs. 

The Company has thus far watched the exchange with weariness, not speaking as they watch the two interact. Thorin himself is surprised by how animated the halfling is now, where before he’d been quiet and withdrawn, although the Company hadn’t been friendly, so it made sense. 

“But enough on matters for the sun!” Many claps and goes to their instrument again. “Any requests cousin?”

The halfling smiles as music begins again.


	2. Awakening and Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit weary about this chapter. It's mostly setting it all up and establishing this AU, but hopefully it was enjoyable!
> 
> Also, a quick note, this is kind of Thorin's POV but in a distant way. No 'I' but it is mostly his view on the proceedings. I added tags, please mind them.

Thorin claims first watch that night, intent on keeping as close as an eye on Many and the halfling as he can. The Company as a whole is disturbed by the events of the evening as they twist and turn in their bedrolls while listening to the never ending song of their fae host. The only one unbothered is the wizard, who has even hummed along at one point to the same maddening tune that never changes. 

As the song plays Many and the halfling converse, but no one understands their words. Their voices are like chiming bells, while at the same time sounding very unlike anything Thorin has ever heard. When Dwalin claims the second watch and Thorin can finally lay down he does not sleep. The halfling is still awake and the music still plays. 

Thorin trusts Dwalin, but he still watches the wolves that lie around them, they have not moved since the Company settled, and they all seem to be asleep. They are undisturbed by the music and Thorin does nothing but watch them through the night. 

~~~~~~

The music stops before sunrise. It jolts Thorin and the rest of the Company into awareness, and they all look over to their host. Many is looking to the horizon, and they turn back to the clearing just before the first rays of light peak over the trees. Their form shifts, changes, warps, the furs they wear growing and changing with them until one very large wolf stands before the Company. 

“Oh.” the halfling moves forward with a raised hand, the wolf allows him to touch its muzzle and the halfling raises a hand further to reach above onto its head. “Cursed to guide your hounds then?”

The wolf steps back with a snort and motions behind the Company with a head tilt. 

They all turn around, the wolves behind them are no more. In their places lay dwarves and elves and men. 

“Ah.” The Company turns back to the halfling with varying degrees of incredulity of their faces.

“Bilbo-” the wizard begins with a sigh.

Only a groan interrupts him, and they all whip themselves around quickly, back to the field of former wolves now waking up and looking over at them. They blink slowly, watching the Company in confusion until their eyes light on the halfling. One in particular sitting straighter and leaning forward while squinting before his face completely lights up and-

“Belladonna!”

The halfling scoffs in disbelief, eyes blinking rapidly, “Arvid.” The halfling huffs a breath softly and moves forward, “What the hell are you doing here?”

The dwarf, Arvid, shakes his head and stands quickly, moving fast towards the halfling. “I could ask the same thing! You’re supposed to be dead!” he grasps at the halfling and pulls him close, his voice dropping low, “We thought you were dead.”

Ori makes an odd noise and turns to his brothers. Glóin is watching the two with a gleam in his eye he only gets when he talks about the courting of his wife, while other members of the Company are watching the two with great confusion. ‘Dead?’ Kíli mouths at his brother and Fíli shrugs with a shake of his head. 

Arvid is squeezing the halfling like he’s going to disappear and the halfling is letting him with a confused frown on his face as he looks to the others in the clearing. 

Those behind the dwarf have raised eyebrows and some have heads tilted in ways that imply they’re also surprised to see the halfling. Although, Thorin’s eyes slide to the dwarf, if what he’d said is true perhaps they are. When the dwarf finally releases the halfling he holds him by the arm and takes a deep breath. 

“We thought you dead.”

The halfling grimaces and looks away, shrugging Arvid off and moving past him. The dwarf follows, seemingly drawn like a magnet to the halfling as he’s passed by. The halfling clears his throat, “So, what have you gotten yourselves into this time?”

Silence, until a sharp bark from behind reminds the Company that they’ve a huge wolf at their back. The wolf-Many moves forward and growls low in their throat until a man sighs and gets up from where he sits. As he walks forward the rest move out of his way, he’s tall with hair such a deep brown it blends into the wolf fur he wears.

“Endre,” the halfling addresses the man and the man nods back with a grin. 

“Sharp as ever,” Endre notes before motioning to the others around him. “We got ourselves into a little bit of trouble in Prevince.”

“Oh?” the halfling looks over them all and gets a few sheepish grins back, “and what were you doing in Prevince?”

Endre laughs out in a huff, “Well we were called.”

“King Gremís got a bit too sure of himself.” another interrupts and the halfling turns to them. 

It is a red-headed elf who steps forward now, “We were called to investigate a few disappearances. Minor things, but enough-”

“To get the attention of the guild.” the halfling interrupts. He nods, “But what does that have to do with this?”

Endre sighs, “Turns out Gharmish isn’t dead. He decided it’d be a bit of irony if we became our namesake.”

“Always did love a good word-game. How’d my cousin get caught in all this?”

Endre looks to Many and shrugs, “Best we can figure revenge for making the guild.”

“Why are they normal when you’re not?”

“To make it impossible to break.”

“Unless you could find me?”

“Well you’re supposed to be dead, so.”

The halfling scoffs, “Of all the things I’ve lived through you really think an arrow would do me in?”

Endre bristles, “Well I’m sorry, after preparing a funeral pyre and watching you burn it seemed like it did!”

The halfling steps back, a glare on his face, “What would you have had me do?”

“Not fake your death!”

“After everything that happened there was no other choice! I killed Gulbrand!”

The wolves reel back with grimaces.

“What could I do? It was revenge and self-defense and yet there was nothing for me to do other than die.” the halfling pants out with exertion, “I had no choice! I would have been hunted to the end of my days if I stayed, so I left instructions and I died. I chose survival and decided the cycle would end with me.”

“Bell-”

“Would you have rather been hunted forever?”

The clearing is silent until there’s a sarcastic slow clap from the back and everyone turns to the previously unnoticed, five halflings sitting in the back. 

“Bravo Uncle, Bravo. You convinced a guild full of high-class hunters that you’d died. Bravo, couldn’t have done it better ourselves. ”

The halfling physically draws himself back with a wince, “Nieces,” he pauses and looks again, “and nephew.”

There’s a scoff and one of the halflings rolls their eyes, “Honestly one of these days I’ll separate myself from my sisters.”

“Not likely Thyme,” another speaks up, “you’re stuck with us.”

There’s a groan and an eye roll before they focus themselves back on the rest of the clearing. 

“So are we done here? Or are we to starve and waste away while you all argue about things that don’t matter?”

Arvid scoffs, “Don’t matter they say, as if-”

“We knew.”

“Because you’re kin!”

“Because we’re not dumb. It was the only course of action that let any of us get any peace and truthfully if it weren’t something so obvious we would have mentioned it. Now, we’re hungry, Hobbits eat a lot more than you lot.” a pause before they shake their head, “So, explain the riddle. We’re going hunting. We’ll be back.” and with that they turned quickly to disappear into the surrounding forest. 

The silence sat for a moment before the halfling cleared his throat, “So a riddle?”

Endre nods and the elf that spoke before came forward with a small leather notebook extended, “This is it.”

The halfling nods and grabs it, flipping quickly and mouthing words to himself as he sits down. Arvid takes the seat on his right, and they all wait. 

~~~~~~

While the halfling reads the journal the Company is speaking amongst themselves rapidly. It’s a lot of yelling at the wizard for bringing an apparent murder with them, but others are trying to interact with the wolves for answers. The few dwarves amongst the wolves aren’t very forthcoming and are openly hostile the few times any of the Company mention murder. 

“You lot fucked up.” the halfling finally speaks up and the whole clearing pauses to look at him. “This is a Soulbind. Very Strong, it’ll take a lot more than my usual brand of kitchen and garden craft.”

“We don’t need you, we just need to know how we fix it.” the elf states firmly.

The halfling raises an eyebrow and smiles, “If I didn’t know any better Torvish I’d think you don’t want my help.”

The elf huffs a laugh, “Only trying to give you immunity. If you’re just a friendly bystander we happened to find whose good at riddles then we don’t have to include you in any records.”

The halfling’s smile falls, “Right, you’ll have no choice though.”

“Why not?” Arvid speaks up and glares at any who look at him.

“Well you’ll need someone to let you into the old gates, and-”

“No, why won’t you be included on records?” Arvid swallows, “Don’t you want to come back?”

The halfling pauses before shaking his head, “I hadn’t planned on it. If you’re planning on breaking this instead of living with it you’ll have no choice though.” the halfling grimaces, “None of the old Keepers are alive, and I’m the only one that knows the way to Yavanna’s Lands.” a pause, “Other events need to be taken into consideration, where we once found welcome we will only find enemies. The halls of many kingdoms no longer hold their makers.”

The clearing is dead quiet, until one of the dwarves speaks up, “Surely not?” the voice is fearful, “Our alliances and our work. You do not say that Moria has been taken?”

The Company stares hard at the dwarf in shock. “Moria has been fallen for near a thousand years.” Balin speaks up in a tone that does nothing to hide his incredulity at the dwarf in front of him. The dwarf turns their attention to Balin and searches for any hint of jest or lie. When they find none their face crumbles, and they move back. Their fellows pat them on the back and allow them to pass. 

The halfling’s face is grave, “It also happens that the land claimed for the former inhabitants of Moria has also been taken.” the dwarves in the group all let out long sighs.

“Any good news?” 

“They’re working on it.”

“You have it on good authority?”

The halfling chuckles, “I’ve got a first-hand source.”

A few in the Company chuckle at that and the dwarf looks over curiously. They eye them critically, eyes catching on braids and clothes before they turn back to the halfling. The whole Company is confused, these strange dwarves that know of Moria and have apparently been there, yet do not recognize those of Durin. 

The halfling focuses back on the wolves. “It matters not, all that does matter is that you understand exactly what the risk is and whether or not it is worth it to you. Getting into these kingdoms will cost you and unless you know what you’re looking for it’ll be a needle in a haystack.”

“Then come with us.” Arvid speaks up, the halfling looks at him for a long moment before exhaling roughly and looking to Endre with a smile. “I would join, but I’m on a contract.”

Endre raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know. But-”

“If you have murdered someone like you stated Master Baggins than we do not want you.” Dwalin speaks up quickly with a fierce glare. 

The clearing stills and the halfling stares at Dwalin, “Be rest assured Master Dwarf it is not murder if it is in self-defense. Even less so if it happened on a battlefield.” the halfling takes a breath while the whole Company stares in shock. “Now-”

“Battlefield? You’ve fought before Master Boggins?” Kíli asks eagerly his eyes shining.

The halfling sighs, “I’d rather not discuss it.” a pause, “So anyway, you will have to find a way to relay this information to my cousin. Write it down and leave it out. I know Green Speech is difficult to understand, so I don’t fault them for not knowing what the old Mage wrote, but they’ll have to know how to navigate you.”

Endre is nodding, “That’s acceptable.” he looks up, “Any chance we can get you to join us? Far more fun than these Southerlings.” he indicates the Company with his shoulder. 

The halfling only sighs, “I signed a contract.”

Endre waits for more before nodding, “Then I won’t ask again. Thank you for your help.” Endre offers him a hand. 

The halfling nods and takes it, standing fully as the wolves bow as one to him. He nods back, a slight incline of his head before he turns back to the Company. “Shouldn’t we be leaving?”

Thorin nods quickly to hide his shock at the display, “Yes. Fíli, Kíli, get the ponies. Bombur, rations. Everyone else pack up.” he lets his words sink in before he turns to the halfling. “Halfling. With me.”

The halfling nods with a grim look in his eyes before moving forward. 

Arvid had stood at some point and they grabbed the halfling as he passed them. They give him a pleading look, but the halfling only tore his arm from Arvid's grip and walked toward Thorin without a word.

Thorin nodded and led the way quickly to the nearby woods and a more secluded spot. When he stops there is silence before Thorin turns to the halfling. 

“You have not mentioned the battle prowess or position the-” Thorin sighs, “group we have encountered respects you for. I would ask why you have kept this hidden and what your possible motivations within this Company are.”

“My motivations are what they were in the beginning. I wish to get you your home back, and I do see my decisions through thank you very much.” the halfling sighs, “as for everything else,” he glances at Thorin with a smile, “you never asked.”

“I did. I said-”

“You asked if I’ve done much fighting.” the halfling stares at him, “then you asked if I preferred an axe or a sword.” 

The halfling sighs and steps away, eyes distant, “Asking if I’ve fought much is asking whether I occasionally have had to defend myself, it does not take into account that I have spent the majority of my life bathed in blood.” the halfling swallows heavily, “Your question of axe or sword does not take into account the multitude of other weapons I have been raised to wield or take to skin,” his eyes raise to look into Thorin’s own, hard as steel, “so no. You did not ask. You demanded, and then you insulted me after I made a joke while trying to figure out what was going on after thirteen dwarves and a wizard came into my Smial without any warning.”

Thorin swallows, “The wizard said-” “The wizard lies.”

The two stared at each other before the halfling stepped back. His eyes are back to that look of quiet naivety. Thorin watches him wearily. 

“We should head back.”

Thorin nods and motions the halfling ahead of him. The halfling nods and moves forward. Thorin follows a second later without taking his eyes off of the figure in front of him. 

When they reach the clearing the wolves have a fire going, or several fires. There are strips of rabbit toasting on several and a deer leg on another. The wolves are speaking among themselves with little discrimination between races. 

The wizard seems to be conversing with Many, conversing casually as if they aren’t a huge wolf. It’s a strange sight, but Thorin doesn’t dwell on it long. 

When Thorin looks back to the clearing he notices several elves and dwarves conversing with each other peacefully. There are a few, he notes with disdain, that seem too close. In particular a dwarf with hair so white it could rival Balin’s and an elf with hair of deep onyx. The pair are conversing in quiet tones, and the dwarf is allowing the elf to hold their hands and play with their callouses. 

Although there are other pairs in the clearing that seem too close those two in particular stand out. While his attention had been snagged by the pairing the halfling had moved forward, Arvid had joined him and was trying to gain his interest while the halfling spoke with others. 

“Arvid’s pushing it.”

Thorin turned his attention to the halfling’s that had suddenly appeared at his side. 

Thorin looked back to the halfling and the dwarf, “What do you mean?”

The halfling’s look over as one, “Well,” the closest to him begins, “They were courting at one point.”

“Oh?” Thorin asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, but turns out Arvid’s awful unloyal when he gets into a few pints.” the second down the line says with a sigh.

“It was a damn shame when Uncle walked in on him one day.”

Thorin swallows harshly as they continue. 

“Of course the courtship was called off.” the third continues.

“Arvid never quite got over it though.” the fourth.

“Damn shameful he keeps trying to fix what he’d broken.” the fifth finishes with a sigh.

Thorin watches the two interact with new eyes, noticing how the halfling never initiates touch, always moves away from it. He watches as Arvid keeps trying to move himself into the halfling’s space only to be rebuffed.

“Why doesn’t he tell him off?”

The halfling closest to him laughs bitterly, “He has. Time and time again. Honestly waiting for him to break his fingers like he did to Gunnar that one time.”

The halflings chuckle, and Thorin grows more confused. “Who’s Gunnar?”

The halfling farthest to his right scoffs, “A good for nothing rat. He got a bit handsy and Uncle broke his fingers.”

Thorin swallows. “Oh?”

“Yeah, he never held a bow right again.”

Thorin nods. “If your Uncle hates the attention so much maybe you should go get him.”

They shake their heads, “He’ll do something about it if he hates it so badly. Although he is a bit more reserved than last time we saw him.”

“Reserved?”

“Yes, usually he’s more forward. I’ve never seen him so quiet.” the third.

Thorin hums, “perhaps he’s distracted.” he wants to snap that this is meaningless, but they all seem young, so he keeps to himself, “there are many here.”

The fourth snorts, “Not likely. Uncle’s commanded men much rowdier and in tighter quarters than this open field. It’s so weird to see him like this.”

Thorin swallows heavily when they all turn to him. 

“But how rude we are.” the closest to him’s eyes go wide with faux innocence and Thorin physically stops himself from stepping back. “My name is Rose, behind me in order; Mary, my twin,” the second nods, “Sage,” the third inclines their head, “Holly,” the fourth smiles with a nod, “and the youngest and only male, Thyme.” the boy simply stares at him. 

“Thorin Oakenshield.” Thorin falls into the familiarity of formality, “At your service.” He bows the usual and the halflings copy him. 

“Our pleasure,” Rose says with a grin as she brushes past him. Her siblings follow in her wake and Thorin notes the gleam in Thyme’s brown eyes as he walks past. 

Thorin turns to watch them leave, noting that the halfling has broken himself from Arvid and is talking with the elf and dwarf pair Thorin noted earlier, but he bristles as he notices the elf plaiting braids in the dwarf's hair. He looks to his Company, but they’re also watching the scene with equal parts fascination and shock. 

He moves forward as Fíli grasps his arm, “Uncle.”

Thorin shakes his head, “Not our place. We don’t know these dwarves. The fact they all seemed surprised about events that took place long before they were born does not bode well. We do not know their ways”

“I don’t recognize their beads either.”

Thorin looks to Balin, “You’re sure?”

“They’re either wearing neutral to keep their identities unknown or they are simply from a clan that does not interact with outsiders.”

Thorin nods, rare but not unheard of. Although usually even the recluses hear of major news. He shakes his head, “Are we ready to go?”

Balin nods, “We were waiting on you laddie.” he glances over, “Learn anything about Master Baggins?”

Thorin pauses, mind going back to the dark look he’d seen. “Nothing that is a threat.” he pauses, hesitates, opens his mouth to ask something of his oldest friend before stopping as he notices his Company listening closely. 

He shakes his head. “Master Baggins is not a threat,” Thorin sighs, “He’s a member of this Company, and although he is considered untested amongst us, he is known quite well amongst his kin.”

Thorin hesitates, “He is to be treated with respect. His ways may be foreign to us, but until he is proven in battle or gives any reason for disregard he is to be treated as a member of this Company.”

They all nod and look at the halfling who’s now rapidly speaking to a small group of men and elves who are nodding and butting in occasionally. The halfling must say something funny for the group bursts into heavy laughter and several surrounding groups chuckle as well.

While they’re laughing, Endre, who sits near the back is looking at them. Thorin meets his stare only for him to glance at the halfling and then back. He tilts his head down to stare into his lap, and Thorin is startled to discover the man is signing Iglishmek at them. 

It’s a threat. ‘Hurt the Hobbit. He’s got bigger and scarier friends.’

The Company as a whole bristles at the threat. Thorin only inclines his head. 

The man smiles and turns back to the group and says something. The halfling nods, speaking softer and nodding to several in the group. The group as a whole nods back and the halfling turns and begins making his way across the field. 

Arvid comes forward again, but the halfling dances out of reach with a clever bit of footwork and a strained smile. Arvid is called by one of the other dwarves, and he turns, the halfling takes his chance and is across the clearing and near them quickly. 

“Are we leaving?”

The Company seems to have caught on to the halfling’s tension and avoidance of that one dwarf in particular for they look between the two curiously. Thorin is the one to answer the halfling.

“Yes, although we could have done without the delay this morning. Let’s go.” 

Thorin watches as the halfling approaches his pony and gets on with no difficulty like he’d shown in days past. “Glad he learned.” Bofur says with an easy smile as he moves forward to his own and pulls himself onto its back with minimal struggle. 

The rest of the Company pulls themselves up, the smaller or less sure of the Company being helped and Thorin eventually pulls himself up and settles. As he reigns in his Pony he notices the whispers from the clearing. They are soft and barely noticeable, but most eyes are focused on the halfling. 

Thorin watches them from the corner of his eyes before shaking his head and ignoring them. Probably have never seen the halfling ride with how inexperienced he was. The wizard is on his own horse, and he nods to Many as they leave. There are eyes on them until they disappear from view, but Thorin swears he can still feel five pairs of eyes on his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a kudos or a comment. I'd really appreciate it!


	3. Of Hobbits and Long Courtships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! It's my longest one yet and I'm really proud of how this story is going.

It is not until an hour later that the Company begins chattering again. Although eager, Fíli and Kíli know well enough not to question the halfling on matters of memory so instead they ask as many questions as they can about those in the clearing. The halfling avoids most topics, steering clear of where they come from. He answers minimally about his Nieces and Nephew, and when Arvid is mentioned he grows sullen and quiet and stops answering questions. 

Time passes. The Company keeps its usual distance to Master Baggins, although every time he speaks keen ears listen to every scrap of information he lets go of. It’s certainly not much, a mention here about how he didn’t grow up in the West, a small mention of a dead friend. Nothing worth much, but the Company takes everything they can get. 

~~~~~~

It is noon when they hear the hoof beats behind them. The whole Company is immediately on edge, minus the halfling. He simply tilts his head back before groaning. “Honestly.”

“Oh, Uncle,” a louder groan at the cheerful voices. 

Two of the halflings drop from the canopy of nearby trees. ‘Rose and Mary’ Thorin notes idly as he gets a first glimpse at how similar they are. Practically the same with their curled red hair and green eyes.

“Rose, Mary.” the halfling addresses the two with a sigh. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing following me?”

The two look at each other before turning back, “Scouting ahead.” It’s said together, and the halfling sighs. 

“Aren’t you heading towards the Shire?” 

“Well we were.” This voice comes from the other side and the Company as a whole whip around to the other pair of halflings on the other side. The two over there give them matching grins, despite their different looks. The one named Sage has dark brown hair with matching eyes while Holly’s hair is red and she has brown eyes. The two look to their Uncle, “Until we found a Hobbit that knew Green Speech and could translate for us.”

Master Baggins stares for a long moment before groaning. “Are you all really gonna follow me across Arda just to fix a curse that’s easily avoidable and makes for a much better intimidation factor than even my cousin has?”

The halflings look to their partner before turning back. “We’re not following you across Arda.”

Master Baggins sighs in relief until-

“We’re following you until we split to meet up with the rest of the Guild in Rivendell.” 

A groan again and the halflings laugh before disappearing. “Be lucky we warned you before they caught up.”

The Company looks behind as the wolves come around the bend. Endre, who’s sitting up front, raises a hand in greeting and spurs the horse he rides forward. 

“Did they have horses?” Dori asks and Nori shakes his head, “Not a one.”

The Company waits and notices as the group draws closer and closer that the horses they ride are much larger than any the Company has ever seen. They’re hulking beasts, large with long hair covering their hooves. They make the Company’s ponies look tiny in comparison. 

“Master dwarves. Pleasure to see you again.”

Thorin scoffs, “I wish I could say the same, but I do not appreciate being spied on.”

Endre’s head tilts, “Spying on? Oh no, we’re just heading the same way. The fact we caught up isn’t surprising, what with our mounts. But spying, no.” Endre chuckles here, “If we wished to spy you would not know we were here.”

Thorin glowers at the man and Endre simply sighs, “Although I do wonder why our scouts said nothing of your presence.” There is laughter from the trees and Endre rolls his eyes, turning to Master Baggins, “Your relatives are a menace.”

The halfling shrugs, “All Hobbits are in their own ways, but as far as mischief goes; this is tame. Be lucky they haven’t dyed your hair funny colors.”

Endre lets out a full laugh, mirth echoing from his frame. “You have to admit that was funny.”

“It took three weeks for my hair to go back from purple. They’re only lucky I didn’t have to leave the Keep for a month, otherwise the consequences would have been much worse.”

“Confuse, don’t abuse is what makes for good pranking.” The voice comes from a nearby tree and Thorin looks up to see Thyme, observing them.

“Thyme! Have your siblings continued on?” Endre asks and Thyme nods, “Scouting ahead, if we wish to keep up we should continue.”

Endre nods, “Very well.” He turns to address the rest of his group who have watched the proceedings from the corners of their eyes as they conversed. “Let’s go!”

They nod as Endre turns his attention back to his horse, spurring the beast forward until he’s next to Master Baggins, chatting amicably and immediately the halfling perks up and animatedly speaks with the man. The Company watches the change with mild confusion, until several end up in conversation with the dwarrow in the wolven group. They sit on ponies, although said ponies are incredibly similar to the hulking beasts the taller in their group ride.

Thorin himself ends up captivated by the different dwarrow in the group, although he does his best not to show it. There number ten as they tell different stories, legends, and songs no dwarf in the Company has ever heard. Thorin enjoys the stories of his kin, no question, but one can only listen to Glóin talk about courting his wife so many times.

The halfling leads with Endre next to him and a few others converse with the two before fading back into the group. Thorin should be angry they’ve taken over navigating them, but Thorin can’t find it in himself to care as he learns more about the strange group, perhaps they could learn more about their burglar. 

They’re new and fascinating, open in ways Thorin has never seen any reclusive clan be. When they get on the topic of family lines they grow more solemn, “We apologize if Mandrems question was out of line or odd. We haven’t been so far South since the alliance broke and none of us have been able to keep up reliable communication.”

The Company stares for a long moment, before Balin breaks the silence, “What do you mean so far South? Where do you live?”

The dwarf who spoke, “Well I was originally born in Moria you see-”

“Impossible! Moria fell almost a thousand years ago, even if dwarrow could live that long you are no older than one hundred and fifty I would bet my braids!” Glóin says quite loudly and almost the whole group turns around. Glóin stares at them all until they turn back around to their conversations. 

“Be at ease Master Dwarf-” “Glóin” the dwarf pauses and nods, green eyes flickering over their group, “And I am Forín Master Glóin. I was saying to be at ease, no betting of braids. Although Moria has fallen many years past what you think my age is, I must disappoint you. I turned fifteen hundred and sixty three just this past week.”

The Company stares in shock, “That’s not-”

“Possible?” Forín interrupts Ori. “I can assure you it is, although the secret to my long life I will not share. Although,” Forín pauses contemplatively. “I can share that my long age is less than the Hobbit you have in your Company.”

Bombur chokes on the biscuit he’d been saving and the rest of the Company gape at the dwarf.  
“I beg your pardon?”

Forín goes to open his mouth before a rock goes flying past his head and he ducks. “Forín if you know what’s good for you you’d stop speaking!”

The Company’s attention turns to their Hobbit. He has another rock and behind him Endre is glaring at Forín. Forín looks between the two before nodding. “You were right, not my place.”  
Forín allows himself to fall behind when the group picks up again and the silence stretches. 

“Our mountain lies far North.” another dwarf speaks up again. “Much farther North than any other clans have dared to travel.”

The Company stares at this new dwarf, their hair is neat, braided back simply for travel, the only truly unique feature being their braided mustache connecting to the hair above their ears in a style Thorin had only seen once in his life. It is so reminiscent of the style Kíli and Fíli’s father wore. The eyes are the same and Thorin’s mind connects the two immediately, but this dwarf has hair of deep brown, not blonde like Víli. Thorin takes the thought from his mind as the dwarf speaks again.

“It is cold and our trade lies mainly amongst ourselves and our neighbors,” they incline their head to the group around them, “so rarely do we seek other mountains so far South.”

Ori is scribbling away, even on horseback and Balin is nodding along. The rest of the Company holds idle interest, although many still have their minds stuck on the words of Forín. 

“What is your mountain called?” Ori asks eagerly and Thorin leans in just the slightest bit closer to hear the answer. 

“Hammer Deep.”

Balin coughs, rough and deep and Thorin glances over. Ori is staring with wide eyes. The dwarf notes the reaction and looks to their fellows. “Lass no one this far South has heard that name uttered since the Mountain collapsed.”

The dwarf-dwarrowdam nods. “I figured, but honestly did they think we all just disappeared?”

A few chuckles, “Probably thought we all died Veriam.”

Veriam rolls her eyes, “Please, like a mountain collapse would do anything.”

A few louder laughs and up ahead Thorin can see the halfling laughing as he glances back. 

“What the hell are you laughing for Belladonna? Your-”

“Moren!” The halfling is staring hard and the other dwarf who spoke lets out a long suffering sigh, their red braids falling in their face. “Honestly the longer we travel with you in this group the more convinced I am you were kidnapped in the middle of the night and you just decided you’d wait it out and get out later.”

“Moren!” 

“What? It’s true!”

“He does have a point.”

“Thyme,” the halfling sighs out as his Nephew makes his appearance by sitting on a tree branch directly in front and above them. 

“All I’m saying Uncle is that you’re not yourself. You haven’t gotten off your pony to walk once.”

“Well-”

“You don’t even have your blades on show.”

“That’s not-”

“For Yavanna’s sake you haven’t even raised your voice. Why I haven’t heard you take command-”

“Thyme!” The halfling stared hard at his Nephew and Thyme sighs, posture becoming resigned. “All I’m saying is that I feel like you’ve been kidnapped and forced on this little excursion against your will.”

Thyme stops, eyes looking over his Uncle before his eyes light up, “Oh. That’s the point.” Thyme sucks in a breath. “Carry on.” and then he’s gone.

The halfling sighs, shaking his head before he continues speaking with Endre. The group moves forward. The Company looks to their fellow dwarrow and they all shrug apologetically. “It’s a sore subject amongst us.”

“That you think we kidnapped him?”

Moren shakes his head, brown eyes closed, “Not at all. Just how Belladonna is when he’s on his own.”

“Why do you call him that?”

Moren looks up, “Call who wha- Oh! Belladonna?”

Kíli nods, “Why do you call Mister Boggins that?”

“Mister Boggins?”

“It’s Master Baggins Kíli, how many times do I have to tell you?” the halfling shouts from the front. 

Kíli looks sheepish before he turns back to Moren. “Well what name did he sign your contract with?”

Balin produces it from his pocket and hands it over. Moren looks at the signature, “Ah so he finally changed it. Good for him.” Moren goes to fold it before stopping. “Does this say in case of incineration?”

Balin coughs awkwardly and those of the group near them shift their attention over to them. A few of the elves are looking as well and that’s when Thorin notes the white-haired dwarf and onyx-haired elf are sharing a horse. It startles him for a moment until he turns back to Moren in case of trouble. 

Moren gives them a long look before handing the contract back to Balin and spurring his horse forward. Veriam awkwardly clears her throat. “Whatever his name used to be, it has been forgotten. So he is Belladonna to us, in memory of his lady mother and a calling to his true nature.”

Fíli scoffs and Veriam turns her attention to him. “Problem Master-?”

Fíli coughs, not knowing he’d been heard. “Fíli. My name is Fíli.”

Veriam smirks in amusement, “Is there a problem Master Fíli or do you simply scoff every time someone mourns their mother?”

Fíli chokes, “Not at all!” he tries to compose himself, “I was-” he coughs, “well-”

Veriam sighs, “Aren’t those of the Durin’s line meant to have eloquence for court? Especially when claiming your homeland?”

The whole Company stares at the dwarrowdam. Veriam looks back serenely, “Oh come on. Like it isn’t obvious.”

Nori laughs, a quiet sound until it dissolves into full chuckles, “Oh Lass you’re good. Ever thought of being a spy?”

Dori is glaring at his brother, and he opens his mouth to intervene until Veriam beats him to the punch. “Actually I have.” she sighs, “Unfortunately I’m quite attached to this group.”

“I’d also hunt you down if you ever left, Niece.” Veriam rolls her eyes before turning to the white-haired dwarf riding with an elf.

“Aunt Variam.” 

The dwarrow-dam rides behind the elf, white hair plated neatly back with rather obvious marriage beads taking center stage on the sides of her head. Thorin can’t see much of the pattern, although he notes the elf has a similar style. 

“If you honestly think I’d let you join with our rivals you’re mistaken.”

Veriam shrugs, “How lucky then that I’m not planning on switching sides.”

“Wouldn’t change much, might improve our chances actually!” 

“Arvid shut the fuck up.”

Variam and Veriam stared at him for a long moment before turning back to each other. The elf stared at him for a long moment before looking forward again, a hand leaving the reins to clutch at Variam’s softly. Variam returns the motion without looking at the elf. 

The Company notes their closeness, many awkwardly shifting at their intimacy. The elf notices, “If you’ve a problem with who we call our loves please inform us so we may go elsewhere in this line.”

The Company looks startled as Variam and Veriam look over from their staring match. 

“Oh.” Veriam says as she glances between the Company and the halfling. “That explains a few things.” Veriam shakes her head, “Aunt Variam, Aunt Arvice why don’t we go speak with Lorea? The woman has been eager to learn about the armor and weapon designs you two created for the Guild. I promised her you’d be eager to tell her and she looks forward to it.”

Arvice nods, purple eyes never leaving the Company. “That sounds great.” She smiles and looks over her shoulder to Variam, “Lorea has been patient, would you mind that awfully Meleth nin?”

The Company’s ears twitch at the Elvish endearment, but Variam relaxes at it, “I would love to Ghivashel. Perhaps we should take a pupil soon, we are not getting any younger.”

Veriam sighs, “Will you two please stop talking like you’re about to keel over.” she guided her horse off the path, Arvice following as they watched the line pass. 

The rest of the dwarrow in the group watch them leave. Arvid tries to take their place, but another moves forward, their bronze hair catching the sun as they smile at the Company. 

The silence continues, the Company silent and awkward as they glance at each other. Ori is idly listening to as many conversations as he can, writing down what snippets he catches that seem interesting. 

Bofur is the one that decides to break it, “We meant no disrespect.” The dwarf looks over. 

“Perhaps you didn’t but those two were scorned and left the South ages ago. They’ve become cautious you see.” 

Bofur shakes his head, “Are you all so old?”

The dwarf nods their head, “Indeed we are. Although not quite as old as those two. Arvice and Variam have been married longer than I’ve been alive. They’ve fought many wars at each other's side and we do not look to the day one is to fall in combat as a day any will celebrate, even if it is victory we walk off the field with. We only hope that if the Valar be willing they die together.” 

The Company nod, understanding the devotion and bond between the two quite easily. A devotion like that deserved nothing but respect, even if the pairing was unconventional. 

“They’re considered by those up North to be one of the greatest loves.” the dwarf continued. “They are up there with the likes of our leader and many others.”

Those nearby are nodding along, “Although their history is not as well documented as our leader's is,” the group laughs.

“It’s so well documented because none of us would leave them alone!” The dwarf Thorin thinks is Mandrem cuts in and the group laughs again. 

The bronze-haired dwarf laughs, “Right you are brother. We hounded them forever. It’s also the longest courtship any of us has ever witnessed!”

The group is nodding and Ori looks like he’s absolutely itching to ask, but Dori is holding him back. Balin notes the scribe's eagerness and speaks for him. “Would you mind telling us this tale? Your leader is unknown to us, and despite knowing several stories of your travels and your drinking songs we are quite eager to hear of how you court.”

Mandrem is laughing, “No need to be so eloquent Master-”

“Balin.”

“Master Balin. We are glad to tell you of the courtship between Ronvid and-” Mandrem pauses here, “I do not know the name they gave you.”

“Many.” Thorin speaks up. “Unless you speak of Master Endre.”

Mandrem shakes his head. “I speak of Many. They keep so many names depending on where they’ve been it’s difficult to know.”

“What do you call them?” Ori, ever the Scribe speaks up. 

Mandrem shrugs, “We call them many things, although to us from Hammer Deep they are known as Wind Rider.”

“But that is a story for another time brother! And one that is not ours to tell.”

Mandrem nods, “So instead we will share the courtship between Ronvid and Many.”

The Company listens eagerly, noting the rest of the group has grown quiet as well.

Mandrem takes a deep breath. “This story begins eight hundred years ago, before Wolves claimed the Keeps of Wandering and before The Fall of Wyvern Held.” he pauses to let it sit. 

“It starts with a chance encounter, and a caravan between Hammer Deep and Wyvern Held. Many had been leading a small group of Wolves, numbering ten to Hammer Deep as a precaution; when they stumbled upon a caravan being attacked by wargs and orcs.” Mandrem takes a breath, “The Wolves leapt immediately into the fray, scattering the orcs whose numbers were over four dozen-” a few whistles “-but they were no match for the Wolves. Those of the caravan were grateful, the Leader of said caravan, offering his goods to Many in exchange for the help but they would accept nothing.”

Mandrem pauses, nodding at the bronze-haired dwarf who continued, “Many instead offered further aid by offering to guard the caravan until they reached the borders of Wyvern Held.” pause, “The Leader accepted the deal and Many changed their plans to accompany them to Wyvern Held, where upon reaching the city the Wolves turned and went to Hammer Deep as they’d originally planned.”

Mandrem picks up again, “Winter passes and as the Wolves are leaving they run into the caravan again. This time its Leader offers Many a gorgeous set of matching knives and swords, crafted by his own hand, and with them he offers courtship to Many. Claiming that he has never felt so deeply, nor will he ever again for he has looked upon them and seen his One.”

“Many did not speak,” this time Veriam picks it up from her place in the back, “Instead they took the knives and the sword and they looked them over. Many spent many long moments looking over the blades before they handed them back and apologized. ‘Although your craft is superior, and your heart is true I can never be courted by one who’s loyalty lies with another kingdom and one whose life does not lie in my guild.’”

“And so the Wolves left.” The bronze-haired dwarf chimes in. “Years pass and one day an excursion group comes back with a lone dwarf.” A chuckle passes through the group, “It is Ronvid, the Leader of the caravan, and former Prince of Hammer Deep." The Company gasps at that, but the dwarf forges on. "He comes before Many and swears his loyalty to them alone and he vows to dedicate himself to the guild and learning all that he can.”

“Many accepted his vows and he was put to work.” Mandrem smiles, “To join the guild is a difficult task. Between learning our fighting,”

“Our Creed!” Moren chimes in.

“Our Lives!” Variam.

“And much more.” Arvice adds. 

Mandrem nods, “And much more, it is a difficult task and every day Ronvid would spend time learning as much as he could about Many.”

“We were weary!” Veriam cuts in, “But he never pushed farther than he was allowed and eventually he became one of us in all but name. Until Many decided it was time.”

“Many gave him our Creed, our Amulet, and our Calling.” Arvice starts, “And we all waited for them to accept his courtship, but they did not. Instead more years passed.”

“We’re at seventy five by this point.” Variam says.

Arvice nods, “Many is reunited with their siblings,”

“Which is another story!” the whole group chimes in with laughs.

“And Many has begun plotting to finish what their grandfather started years ago.” Arvice sighs, pausing for a long moment.

The whole Company leans forward eagerly. Glóin’s eyes gleaming like they do when he speaks of his family. Óin has his ear trumpet tuned eagerly towards the elf. 

“We began to despair that they would never court him, until Many took to the forges. And they stayed down there for many weeks. When they emerged they carried the most gorgeous battleaxe that has ever been created.”

Variam chimes in here, “Oh who I would have killed for an axe like that. Personally designed by the genius that Many is, with the funding and extravagance added on to it.”

Mandrem laughs, “Of course, but Many brings it to Ronvid in front of the whole hall. Belladonna actually grabbed anyone who wanted to see from the training yard so everyone in the Keep was in there when they approached him.”

Thorin notes how many years, and how old that would make the halfling, although if he’s older than Forín who’s over a thousand- he pauses. Wait, how old were Hobbits as a race. 

Veriam nods, “Many and Ronvid were quiet for a long time, until Many spoke; ‘I can make no promises that I can dedicate my whole being to you. I can not promise you a long life at your side for my days have been numbered since I was a child. I can not promise you I will endeavor and dedicate myself to settling down and having a family with you for I never wish to drag another being into what my grandfather has cursed us to. All I can promise is that I will love no other as fiercely as I love you, and that every day I am able I would spend my life at your side if you will agree to never expect me to be anything other than myself, even if it is to be my death.’”

Thorin hears a sniff from next to him and he swears he sees Dwalin wipe away a tear when he looks over.

“Ronvid thought it over, he weighed her words and he accepted, 'I could love no other, and I will spend every day you can give me at your side..’”

The group goes silent, no one chiming in or adding on and Thorin realizes the story is over when Variam sighs, “It is only so sad that Ronvid was the one to leave first in the end.”

The group is solemn and they continue for several long moments until there is a noise from far in the woods next to them. The halfling has perked up and everyone looks to him. 

“Anything to worry about?” Endre asks, looking far into the woods like he can see something. 

The halfling is focused, but the Company has hands on weapons. Endre raises a hand, the noise gets closer. Mary and Rose tear from the trees, two wargs collapsing dead below them as they reload the bows they’re holding. 

They’re dead silent, two more wargs crash through and they’re swiftly taken care of. Rose and Mary look at each other before rolling their eyes and walking forward, collecting their arrows as they go. The Company’s ponies are panicking and it takes several minutes to get them back in hand, but when they do the warg corpses are gone and the halfling is arguing with his Nieces, Nephew nowhere in sight. 

The Company can’t hear the words, but it looks like a fierce argument. Eventually Rose breaks off from the other four, hands raised in the air as she speaks something foreign to her Uncle before disappearing back into the trees. The other three nod, before following Rose and the halfling sighs. 

“What happened?”

“Thyme stumbled upon a warg pack.”

“Is he ok?”

“Perfectly fine.” the halfling grumbles, “It’s just very disappointing. He needs to learn to actually feel before he leaps.”

Endre laughs, “Like you’re one to talk?”

“I at least learned after I almost died.”

The group laughs and travel begins again, the halfling pulling himself back into the saddle with little difficulty. 

“What was that about?” Ori asks and Dori turns around to talk to him when the copper-haired dwarf speaks up. 

“Thyme’s learning how to navigate by feel. Sounds like he happened to stumble into trouble. The Hobbit’s got it, as they do. Best damn sentries when travelling I swear.”

“What do you mean?” Kíli asks, eyes looking more keenly towards their halfling. 

The dwarf hums, “Well Hobbits have a natural sense for all that lay in this Earth. Disappears when placed on stone, but the moment you place them on any earth they can get themselves wherever they need to go. Because of this extra sense they make damn good sentries. Nothing has ever gotten past a Hobbit who uses their senses.” the dwarf motions to their halfling, “It’s why we’re all a bit startled to see Belladonna on a pony, it’s just not good for security Not to mention after a while it gets uncomfortable. Hobbits are made for the Earth, just as dwarrow are made for stone.”

The Company as a whole looks forward to the halfling who shifts upon feeling their eyes on him. 

“Oh.” Fíli and Kíli say together as they remember how insistent he’d been that they not place him on a pony. The whole Company seems to remember that as they all shift uncomfortably. 

“What other things about Ha-” Ori cuts himself off, “Hobbits do you think we’d need to know since we don’t interact with them often.”

The dwarf raises an eyebrow at the word Ori was going to use. “Hobbits.” the dwarf stresses, “Are very social creatures, but you should ask Belladonna for this information. He is a part of your Company after all.”

Ori nods. “Of course. I meant no disrespect, Master-?”

“Mordrem.”

“Master Mordrem. I was just asking since his attention is on the man, Endre at the moment.”

“The man-” Mordrem looks over before laughing. “Endre’s not a man.”

“What?” Bofur asks and Mordrem laughs harder. 

“Endre’s a dwarf.” The Company gapes at him. 

“His ma was an elf.”

“That explains some things.” Bombur says and Bifur replies in garbled Khuzdul. 

Mordrem looks at Bifur for a long moment before shrugging, “If he threatened you in Iglishmek I’d say so.”

Thorin nods, “He did.”

Mordrem sighs, “I would apologize, but whatever he said was probably the truth, so take it to heart.”

Mordrem moves forward and the Company look at each other. ‘Have we been hurting him this whole time?’

~~~~~~

The day passed and when the sun began falling more steadily the Wolves stopped and dismounted, gripping their reins and looking out for a campsite. They found one just before the sun set and there wasn’t much time for talking while they stashed their mounts and prepared for the magic to take hold. Before it did Many came back from wherever they’d disappeared for the day with a large deer, the halflings with their own hunts. Quite a few rabbits, and two more deer. 

They were barely set down before the change came upon them and Many stood as themself again, swaying gently on their feet before stabilising and coming forward. “Ah cousin!”

“Cousin.” The halfling greeted them with a smile. Many sat down, stretching out to watch her group reorient themselves with being wolves. They all looked to the kills brought to them. Many barked a laugh, “Have at!”

The wolves surged as one, tearing into the kills with little regard. The Company watched, both fascinated and disgusted as those they’d gotten to meet throughout the day became bloodthirsty beasts. 

The halfling had isolated himself from them as was his usual, but Many didn’t approach him. Instead Many settled themselves with the Company, nodding to the wizard. The wizard nodded back, before watching the Wolves tear into their kills. 

When Many sat down she started the conversation. “I understand you are confused. You’ve learned a lot today about a Company member you hated and have realized there’s more to it. But honestly it shouldn’t surprise you.”

The Company stares, the smell of food becoming nauseating as they remembered how much they’d disregarded him. Thorin still wasn’t convinced, but he still felt uncomfortable at the thought the halfling had been so uncomfortable on horseback, not because he was unused to it but because it hurt him physically. 

Many sighs, “Let me explain. Hobbits as a species are interesting. They’re related to me and my kin and I bet none of you can tell me where they came from.”

The Company looks at Balin, he shakes his head. Then they look to Ori who looks down. 

Many laughs, “It’s alright, you are not the first or the last. But it goes like this.” Many motions to the wolves. “Even changed as they are they act exactly like their race.”

Many points to the five smallest wolves in the group, “The Hobbits, if you’ve noticed have quite a large share.” The Company looks, “Now I’m not saying this is a metaphor but when it comes to food Hobbits usually grow and have the most saved up.”

The Company watches a wolf with thick, gold fur approach. “Arvid, asshole, is going to be the metaphor for just about any race who decides they can take without asking.”

Arvid moves forward quickly, growling with his hair on end. One of the halfling-wolves move forward, headbutting Arvid and grasping him around the neck, using their momentum to pin him. The dwarf-wolf yelps, high and angry as he slinks away after he’s let go. 

“Now, one attack gives them ideas. Although they can guard themselves they’ve got a better chance of growing more food if they’re not so focused on guarding, so-” Two of the halfling-wolves look at each other, grabbing a few chunks and walking away, leaving the other three to guard and feast. The Company watches, fascinated as they approach a snow white wolf-Variam, they note, and an onyx wolf-Arvice. They place the food in front of them. The two glance at each other before taking the food and following behind the halfling-wolves. “they offer food and gain allies so they can focus.”

The wolves reach the halflings and as they all settle to eat Variam and Arvice ward off any who try to approach. The sounds of feasting continue for many minutes until eventually there is nothing left and the wolves settle down, many grooming each other. Variam and Arvice fall into this, but the halfling-wolves they’d guarded are walking around, picking up the occasional bone as they go to Master Baggins. 

The Company as a whole sit up straighter but Many soothes them with a hand. “And if it so happens the rest of the races rid themselves of valuable resources the Hobbits will use it to the end.”

When they get near their Uncle the wolves drop the bones, he stares at them for a long moment before his eyes light up and he nods. The halfling grabs a bone and a rock. He hits it quickly against the bone, gathering the attention of the rest of the Wolves, who watch as he hands the split bone to one of the halfling-wolves; who immediately begins chewing on it. “The marrow.” Many explains as the Company watches the other Wolves inch forward. 

“And if the other races happen to grow greedy.”

The halfling-wolves growl and gather themselves, baring their teeth and driving away those that came forward to try and claim the extra meal the halflings had found for themselves. “They’re driven back into place.”

The fire cracks. Bombur quickly takes the soup he'd made off the fire and he hands it out. Many doesn't accept any, but they do claim Master Baggins' portion to take to him. 

The Company watches the Wolves idly, noting and distinguishing which of them they’d met. Some are easy, while others are harder. The Elves are skinnier, mostly legs with thinner fur while the Dwarrow are thick, with paws wide and fur making up a majority of their mass. The Halflings also have thicker fur, but are mostly leg like the Elves. Although, Master Baggins keeps checking and prodding at his Nieces and Nephews stomach and quietly complaining to them. 

~~~~~~

The Company settles to sleep, the wizard had stormed off after disagreeing with Many. Many had of course followed to continue arguing, for what reason though Thorin did not know. The night was mostly silent, until one of the pony’s neighed. Thorin sighed and motioned his Nephews to check. 

They went with no grumbles but when they don’t come back after several long minutes he sighed. “Master Baggins!” The halfling looks up. “Would you go check in on my Nephews?”

The halfling nods, standing and making sure not to disrupt the Wolves that had settled down with him as he walks to where Thorin’s Nephews had disappeared to. 

Several more minutes pass and Thorin lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dwalin-” but a crashing disrupted them. Dwalin had his axe in hands immediately, half of the Company waking up as Fíli and Kíli burst into the clearing. The Wolves stayed where they were, watching as the two princes panted. 

“What is the meaning of-”

“Trolls!” Kíli gasps out.

“They’ve taken two of the pony’s.” Fíli says quickly. 

“Mister Boggins said he had it handled, and that we just needed to come get you!”

The Company look at each other before scrambling for their weapons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! If you'd be so inclined to leave me a kudos or a comment I'd love to chat with everyone.
> 
> And yes! I used the Keep from Clamavi De Profundis. I do not claim the name as mine. I'm just a huge fan so I added it in as a bonus for anyone who knows. I also highly recommend their songs: 
> 
> The Song of Hammer Deep  
> Dragon Shore  
> When The Hammer Falls
> 
> In my mind those are the songs the dwarrow sing as a part of their history, and they will be referenced later, but I do not claim them. They're just absolutely amazing songs from such a talented group and I think they deserve more attention. Once again thank you all so much!


	4. Trolls and Hidden Valleys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

Thorin had seen many things in his life, a halfling talking with trolls like it was just another day was not one of them. Upon reaching the clearing his nephews had led them to Thorin was met with the sight of their halfling eagerly chatting with three trolls around a large cooking pot. Thorin had motioned the Company to spread out and keep quiet as he watched the scene in disbelief. 

“Add in some of this!” the halfling says eagerly as he throws a bundle of something at the trolls. The largest catches it and looks at it with narrowed eyes. 

“And this’ll make it ‘aste bedder?” one of them asks and the halfling nods. The trolls look at each other before the one holding the bundle lets it drop into the pot they are standing around.

“Assuredly. An old recipe. Favored by many of the trolls I’ve met in the far north.” the halfling states and the three trolls look at each other before looking back at the halfling.

“Up north?”

The halfling nods, standing tall as he looks to each of them steadily, “I have been at the fireside of many a troll and I have enjoyed many a pot of good soup. I heard you talking and I was curious to see if you would compare to those of the north.”

Thorin catches Dwalin’s disbelieving eyes from across the clearing and he raises an eyebrow. Next to him his nephews are watching the scene with weird looks and honest confusion on their faces. He’s sure the Company is about the same. 

“Of course we can compare!” the shortest said before pausing, “What is soup from the north like?”

The halfling regards them for a long moment, “If I am to tell you the secret for a delicious stew you can not let it slip that I was the one to tell you.” he leans forward like he’s telling a secret with a grin, “I pride myself on not giving away secrets, but you lot seem much more fun and I like you.”

The trolls look at each other before nodding eagerly. “Tell us.” they insist and the halfling pauses before nodding. 

“Alright I will tell you. First you will need two more ponies- alive” stresses the halfling, “and as soon as you have them in that pen,” he nods to where Thorin can see two of their ponies locked up, “then I will instruct you further.”

One of the trolls sniffs, “Why shou’ we ‘ust you and not eatcha?”

The halfling shrugs, “Well I’m willing to teach you a good soup that’ll taste much better than the current fair you’ve got.” The trolls glance at their pot, “Although if you’d rather eat me and be poisoned go for it. I mean I’ve been here a long time. If I can kill a troll before I go out it’d be quite the accomplishment for one as small as I.”

The trolls consider him, “Poisoned?”

The halfling nods grimly, “It is an ill fate, it is why my kind get along with trolls, one ate my cousin. It was the last meal he ever had. I’ve been friends with those up north ever since.”

“Ate your cousin?” 

“Well I didn’t like him. They did me a favor killing him you see.”

One of the trolls nods, “Goo’ eno’gh for me! William les go get us some ponies.”

“Wha’ ‘bout me?” one asks and the other two look over.

“Watch the cook.”

They walk away and the halfling looks to the last one, a contemplative look on his face. “Do they always treat you like this?”

The troll looks over, eyes narrowed as he nods. 

The halfling tuts, “Don’t you think you deserve better?”

“Whadya mean by tha’?”

The halfling shrugs, “I’m just saying it doesn’t seem like they appreciate you.”

From his right Thorin can see Bofur inching closer while looking at him. Thorin shakes his head, it hadn’t gone south yet. Bofur pauses. 

“In fact, I think they don’t like you at all.”

The troll sniffs, “Whas tha’ mean?”

“It means I think you should eat a little soup and relax while they’re gone. You’ve earned it after they left you to watch over a boring little cook while they have fun.”

The troll looks at the pot contemplatively before looking back to the halfling. The halfling is nodding empathetically, a sympathetic look on his face.

“Maybe I shou’.”

The halfling nods, “I would.”

The troll moves towards the pot, picking up the ladle and taking a large gulp. 

He dropped the ladle back in and moved back, “that doesn’t taste good at all.”

The halfling scoffs, “With idiots like that mixing it up what did you expect. You can do better.”

The troll nods, “I cou’ do better.”

“And you should, but after a nap. I’m sure you feel sleepy after all the strain those two have put you under.”

The troll sits down heavily, shaking the ground but the halfling only watches.

“I feel-” the trolls' eyelids are drooping. “You pu’ somethin’ in the sou’' the troll is slurring his words now and the halfling only watches as the troll tries to move a weakened arm to reach at him. 

“Maybe I did.”

The troll’s arm stops in its tracks and the halfling steps just a little bit away with a blank look on his face. 

Thorin almost moves forward but stops as a hand grabs the back of his cloak, Balin nods to where the other two had disappeared. Thorin nods and settles down to wait. The halfling is still on his feet, ear turned to where the trolls went and Thorin watches him as he distractedly moves his right hand over a point above his knee. 

Suddenly there is a roar that splits the night and the halfling moves forward, grabbing the makeshift knife the troll had as he passes the body. He is gone before the others can process that he even moved. The Company all move forward at once and they all eye the troll apprehensively before looking at each other, Kíli opens his mouth, confusion on his face until a howl rises into the air, followed by several more. The Company look at eachother again before moving forward quickly, Thorin in the lead. 

They reach the clearing outside the farmhouse the Wolves had stashed themselves near. The trolls are dead, slaughtered. Thorin looks around the clearing, seeing the halfling sitting amongst the Wolves, his eyes glowing as the sun rise approaches. As he is he looks wild, blood on his face and curls a mess as he sits in the middle of a wolf pack. The sun rises scant seconds later and the howling abruptly stops to be replaced with groans of pain.

“For fucks sake can we not be stumbled upon by unwanted guests for one night!” Endre yells from where he lays curled up near the trolls. The others don’t answer, too busy groaning in pain and discomfort. The halfling is with his nieces and nephew, soothing pains and speaking in low tones. 

Thorin catches the eyes of all in his Company and just stares in disbelief. 

Rose is the first up and she grabs his arm, shaking her head and saying something. The halfling's face falls before he nods. Rose goes to move away but he grabs her arm and says something. Rose shakes her head, but the halfling moves away quickly. Rose watches him as he makes his way to where Endre sits. When he reaches him he speaks in low tones, Endre frowns, and nods. The halfling inhales deeply and turns abruptly, eyes searching before something in the wood crunches behind him. The halfling immediately wheels around, Endre has a hand at his waist as he looks where the halfling does. 

Many steps from the trees, already a wolf and the wizard is behind them. The halfling sighs, relaxing and the wizard looks over the clearing. “Ah. Eventful night?”

Endre stared at the wizard for a moment before huffing out a rough breath and going to stand, wincing as he finally got to his feet, “Let’s go with that.” The halfling stares at the wizard before huffing and turning. 

The wizard watches him with keen eyes, “Are you out of retirement yet?”

The halfling huffs and doesn’t answer, instead he moves forward, making his way to those gathered to the far of the clearing. Those he passes acknowledge him, but do not speak. He stops in front of three figures with matching purple cloaks. 

Thorin was unable to watch the halfling any more as the wizard moved towards them. “Trolls, I said we should not settle near that farmhouse. You are lucky they did not find you instead of your ponies.”

Thorin huffs as the wizard continues on, “it matters not though. You are well, although the Wolves are worse for wear-” “Fuck off wizard!” “now you should search for the cave they’ve no doubt been hiding in.”

“Cave?” Ori asks and the wizard nods, “I’ve no doubt Master Ori, they’ve been taking shelter nearby and hiding anything they find interesting. Isn’t that right Master Wolf?”

Endre looks up before nodding, contemplative as he pokes at his ribs, “Best bet if they’re this far south. Can’t travel during the day.”

The wizard nods and looks expectantly at the Company. Thorin turns, “Look for a cave. Fíli, Kíli.” his nephews look at him, “get the ponies.” His nephews nod, walking to where they’d last been with little complaint. The rest of the Company scatters, “Bombur.” Thorin calls and the cook turns, “Get food ready.”

The cook nods and goes to their packs, digging around in his own before rebanking the fire as best he can. Thorin turns his attention back to the halfling and sees him sitting in front of the three purple-cloaked figures. He turns to the wizard. “Tharkûn” the wizard looks at him. 

“What is the halfling?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean.” the wizard says distantly and Thorin sighs. “You know exactly what I speak of wizard. I grow tired of your riddles.”

Tharkûn stares at him for a long moment, “He is exactly as he has said Thorin Oakenshield and nothing more.”

Thorin huffs, “And what has he said he is?”

The wizard raises an eyebrow, “I don’t know. I never asked.”

Thorin opens his mouth to retort when there is a yell from the woods nearby. Bofur emerges quickly, “Found it!”

The wizard smiles and moves forward, “Good work Master Bofur!” the wizard moves forward before looking to Thorin. Thorin lets his next words die on his tongue as he follows the wizard and Bofur into the woods and into a cave. The stench is what hits him first, but he continues moving forward, eyes adjusting almost immediately to the pitch dark. There are bones scattered everywhere, coin and treasure piled high and Thorin passes by Glóin burying a chest. The wizard is moving things about until he “happens” upon a sword which he hands to Thorin. 

Thorin studies the blade, well-made but obviously Elvish and Thorin almost puts it back, although the wizard's words stay his hand and he accepts it with barely a sigh. It is a well-made sword. The wizard also finds a smaller one and he picks it up with a hum before making his way out of the hoard. Thorin follows and sees the Wolves scattered outside, tacking up their mounts and conversing with each other as they do so. 

The halfling is speaking with Many as the wizard approaches him. The Wolf can only reply in growls and head motions but they seem to be in full conversation until the wizard interrupts. The wizard hands the sword over to the halfling. Thorin swallows his comment of that being a bad idea as he watches the halfling draw it from its sheath to examine. He notices a few more of the Company are watching, including Dwalin who eyes the halfling critically. 

The halfling doesn’t take any practice stances, nor does he seem particularly inclined towards it. Dwalin rolls his eyes, already dismissing the halfling with a scoff. The rest of the Company seems to have come to a similar conclusion as they look away to their own tasks, but Bifur still watches. 

Thorin turns slightly, keeping his eyes towards where his nephews should be returning from. Out of the corner of his eye he watches as the halfling continues examining the sword, until his grip changes and he’s in a defensive stance. 

Thorin immediately looks over and Dwalin follows his gaze, the halfling has shifted his grip, looking less awkward by the second as he moves with it to test. Dwalin’s eyes have gone wide, a gleam in them as he watches the halfling and his unfamiliar stance. The halfling loosens his grip suddenly, stance falling as he shakes his head and puts the sword back in its sheath. Many nudges him and the halfling only shakes his head, strapping the sword to his waist, but nothing else. Dwalin looks to Thorin again but he shakes his head, he had no clue what that was. 

Thorin looks to Bifur, whose eyes are all too knowing as he watches the halfling with something akin to understanding. He catches Bifur’s eye but Bifur only shakes his head and turns back to his food. 

Many stiffens, ears going forward and they growl. Immediately every Wolf has a hand on a weapon as they look into the woods where Many was growling towards. A sled comes bursting through the undergrowth, led by rabbits with a man riding it, “Thieves! Fire! Murder!” the strange man yells as he enters where they all stand. 

“Radagast the Brown,” the wizard greets him and Many barks out as well. Radagast looks over, eyes going wide at the large wolf. “Lady Hunt!” Radagast moves towards the large wolf, bowing slightly before his eyes move over to the halfling. He pauses, “It has been many years.”

The halfling nods, “Radagast. I had wondered where you had gone.”

Radagast opens his mouth to speak again before a howl tears through the day, and it is not Many or the Wolves. Radagast seems to come out from his haze, “That is what I wished to speak to you about Gandalf! He pulls something from his side and hands it to him, “You know what that is. There is no time.”

The wizard looks gravely at Radagast and what he was handed before he turns to Thorin, “Who did you tell?”

“No one, other than my kin.”

The wizard is furious but there is not much time, “The ponies!” 

“They’ve bolted!” Fíli yells as him and Kíli emerge from the woods. 

Radagast looks at them all, the Wolves still have their mounts. “I will draw them off.”

“Those are Gundabad Wargs-”

“These are Rhosgobel rabbits.”

The wizard nods and Radagast is gone as quickly as he came. The Wolves look over, “You can ride with us.” There is no choice, and Thorin allows himself to be helped onto one of the beasts, riding behind an elf. Thorin notes the halflings who do not get on mounts, their halfling amongst them. 

“Master Baggins!” Thorin calls but he is ignored. Endre calls an order and the horses are off.

~~~~~~

When they reach the plains their horses are beginning to waver. The wargs have not been distracted for long and Radagast could only do so much. The horses are swift though and none have fallen even slightly behind, those who remain unburdened with passengers are quick with their arrows, but there are many and they seem no closer to safety. The wizard has his own horse, and he leads them. 

Many has disappeared with the halflings and Thorin wonders where they are. A call goes over the plains, a long deep whistle and Thorin looks for the source. The wargs and orcs are as well. Many suddenly emerges from an outcropping and Thorin watches as they stall the orcs for a minute longer, but not for long. Thorin looks back to the front, keeping track of where they are going until he sees something from the corner of his eyes. The grass here is long and something splits through it, landing right behind them. 

Thorin looks, it’s the halflings. 

They have tripped up several and the wargs have stopped chasing them in favor of the halflings. Their orc masters are thrown off or taken for the ride. They are quick and Thorin watches Thyme stab one before they get too far to see much more and the wizard calls for them to dismount. 

The rest of the Company is in an uproar but the wizard motions them down a hole. The howls and yells of the orcs and wargs get closer and a pit of dread fills Thorin’s stomach as he thinks of what that could mean. Without much choice they go, the Wolves stay behind with their mounts, more loyalty than sense. 

When they are down the hole a horn calls. Thorin recognizes that call, “Elves.”

Dwalin calls from further back, “There’s a tunnel! Do we follow it?”

“Of course!” Bofur says and the rest of the Company move forward quickly. Thorin grimaces, the damned wizard. He follows his Company reluctantly, and glances back, Company minus one. 

~~~~~~

Entering the Hidden Valley was a relief to Bilbo. It had been ages, literally, since he’d been here and it had barely changed. He walked in proudly next to his nieces and nephew, orc and warg blood covering them all from head to toe. He felt alive, something long-buried simmering under the surface as he basked in the feeling of victory and the fading adrenaline of combat. 

The Wolves follow in his wake, leading their horses and conversing lightly with the Elves that would get close. 

The elves around him were familiar, but in a distant way. They eyed them wearily, but they didn’t stop them as they walked forward. Bilbo could hear Gandalf speaking, and Elrond trying his best not to yell at the wizard, but they both stopped as he walked forward. The Company was gathered together in a circle, the best fighters on the outside while the youngest were inside. They all stare at him in silent shock, but Bilbo doesn’t look at them. 

“Elrond,” he says as he addresses one of his oldest friends, “it’s been awhile.”

Elrond stares at him, shock coloring him so vividly that the Company picks up on it easily, “I thought you died.”

One of the Wolves choked on a laugh. “Why is this a common theme with you?” another calls out and others laugh as Elrond glances up before turning his attention back to Bilbo.

“Unfortunately no. I don’t have that kind of luck.”

Elrond looks to Gandalf, “Mirthrandir, I was unaware you traveled with the Wolves.”

Gandalf looks pleased with himself, “It was quite an impromptu meeting I assure you Lord Elrond.”

Elrond looks back to Bilbo and the Wolves behind him. “May you take shelter with the rest of your kin.” The Wolves all cheer slightly, leading their horses to be settled. Bilbo watches, Elrond opens his mouth to speak again before stopping. 

When Bilbo doesn’t move Elrond looks between him and the Company. “Ah.”

Bilbo doesn’t give any indication as he looks at Elrond expectantly. 

Elrond steps aside, “Find welcome in my home, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin moves forward, nodding as he looks between Bilbo and Elrond. Bilbo does not meet his eyes as the Company continues. Thorin looks like he will stay behind until Dwalin grabs him by the shoulder to pull him forward.

Bilbo looks up, meeting Thorin’s eyes as the dwarf walks away. 

~~~~~~

Thorin had been entranced watching their halfling waltz in like he owned the place, absolutely soaked in the blood of wargs and orcs. Far from dead or injured he looked more alive than Thorin had ever seen him and if the smiles of his nieces and nephew were anything to go by this is what they had meant when they said he was off. 

The smile on his face is unnerving, calm and uncaring. He looks as if he’s had a few too many pints, as loose as he is. The confidence he has is shocking after how timid he’d been. The halflings' behavior brings only one phrase to mind.

“Battle Drunk.” Dwalin says next to him and Thorin can only nod grimly, that does not tell a good story of the halfling’s life thus far if he reacts to combat like that. A few have sucked in breaths at Dwalin’s words but the youngest in the Company are confused. Thorin hates to think he’ll have to have that conversation with his nephews. 

But even knowing what the behavior is Thorin can’t help but be absolutely enraptured as he watches the halfling move forward, prowling like a lion with eyes hidden behind his curls. Thorin glances to Elrond and notices his shock as he stares at the halfling. Thorin notes the halfling’s words, Master Baggins is obviously familiar with Elrond since he greets him like an old friend. 

Bifur says something next to him and Thorin catches the tail end of it “ **-damn shame.** ”

Thorin does not ask what is a damn shame as the Wolves suddenly move. Splitting into groups and dispersing to travel further into Imladris. Thorin swallows and looks at Elrond steadily as the elf glances between his Company and the halfling. Elrond seems to understand, the halfling watching him steadily. Thorin is only a little surprised when Elrond steps aside and tilts his head, “Find welcome in my home, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin nods, looking between the halfling and the elf. The Company moves ahead of him and Thorin lets them, staying back to keep an eye on the halfling and the elf. Dwalin grabs his elbow and drags him forward, Thorin goes easily with barely a grumble before looking back at the halfling, getting the first clear look at his face since he entered the Hidden Valley and Thorin immediately feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.

The halfling’s eyes are piercing into his own, blue and green as usual; but what is not usual is the veins of gold running through his iris. Thorin feels his breath catch and something burns through his chest as Dwalin pulls him further away. 

When they are far enough away to not be noticed Dwalin turns to him but Thorin is still caught on the veins of gold in the halfling’s eyes. “ _Oh_ ” he utters as he realizes his hand has gone to his heart subconsciously. 

Dwalin catches the motion, recognizes it from his brother and his eyes widen, “No.”

Thorin looks at him and Dwalin looks back. They stare at each other for a long moment before there is a shout for them. The Company is ahead of them and looking back. Thorin gives Dwalin a look saying they’ll speak later before he walks forward to join his nephews. 

~~~~~~

“I had not ever expected to see you again.” Elrond says to him and Bilbo shrugs.

“I never wanted to walk into this valley again, we can’t all get what we want.”

Elrond roughly sighs, “You’ve thrown your lot in with the line that slaughtered-”

“Ah!” Bilbo interrupts, “I’m sorry Elrond. Would you like to continue your next sentence or should I add in the part you played as well.”

Elrond swallows, “I had-”

“No choice?” Bilbo laughs, high and brittle as he swallows through the words he’s always wanted to say, “I had no choice either, and I still fought against everything I’d been made for.” 

Gandalf is watching the two, sadness permeating from him. “Perhaps we should-”

Bilbo looks at him and the words die on his tongue. Bilbo looks back to Elrond, “If you’ve a problem with who I pledge loyalty to then I would have to point out your hypocrisy. I spent my whole life dedicated to the protection of this land and those outside it.” Bilbo swallows harshly, emotions threatening to spill over and he tightens his grip on the sword he’d been given. “Just because my maker decided me and mine were no longer worthy of what they’d given us does not mean you could do what you did.”

Elrond grimaces, “I only acted in what I believed-” 

“To be in the best interest of your kin.” Bilbo finishes for him before deeply inhaling, the haze that had taken his mind fading and being replaced with nothing but melancholy. “If I had acted in the best interest of me and my kin Lord Elrond,” the elf shifts, “this world would have burned and been born anew in the image of a mad god.”

Elrond looks away and Bilbo shakes his head before walking forward, the elves around him reaching for weapons but Elrond stays their movements with a hand. 

Bilbo passes unchallenged into Imladris and he feels a shiver go down his spine at the call he can feel from below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! It's a shorter update than last time, but I hope you still enjoyed.


	5. Secrets Long Hidden and Dinners Always Ruined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I hit a bit of a rough patch and needed a break, thankfully this has given me a chance to relax and storyboard for this while keeping with the timeline! I hope you'll enjoy!

The Company had found themselves a nice alcove to settle themselves into that would be best to inconvenience their hosts without being completely detrimental to daily life. They set themselves up rather cheerfully, although more subdued than usual. 

“So,” Bofur started cheerfully, “The halfling is not what we expected.”

Dwalin scoffs, “Ya think?”

Bofur shrugs, “I mean, with how fussy he was-”

“Just a show.” Nori pipes up.

“Nori?” Dori looks at his brother and Nori shrugs.

“He was always watching.”

“What do you mean?” Thorin asks and Nori looks at him.

“Just that he always knew where everyone was. He would reach for a weapon that wasn’t there sometimes.” Nori looks away, “Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and just stare at the sky, but he was always cautious. Never put himself too far into the group and I swear-” Nori shook his head.

“Nori?” Balin asked while giving the thief a look. 

Nori sighed, “I could have sworn after the handkerchief incident he smiled, like it was a game he’d won.”

The Company contemplated that, looking at the thief in disbelief. 

“That was a test.” 

They all startled, looking to the railings of the alcove. Thyme sat there, still covered in the remnants of blood but much less than before.

“He was testing you.”

“Why?” Thorin asked and Thyme shrugged.

“He’s met many Dwarrow, many Kings,” Thyme paused, a frown on his face, “used to live in Moria actually.”

They gaped at him and Thyme smiled, “Either way he wanted to know who and what you were.”

“How does asking to go back for a handkerchief do that?” Dori asked.

Thyme laughed, “I don’t get it myself-”

“Then how-”

“But he always said.” Thyme pauses to look over Kíli, “He always said that the eyes and the body tell all when one is both bewildered, angered, or surprised. So he said he came up with the handkerchief test. It gets all at once and it’s always how he decides whether or not a group is worth the effort.”

“The effort of what?” Dwalin bit out, already exhausted with the riddles.

“Keeping alive.”

Thyme smiled at them all before jumping off the railing. He walked forward, and they parted for him to pass by. “Don’t worry,” Thyme looks back at them, “He likes you. He wouldn’t be working so hard if he didn’t.”

Thyme winks at Thorin and walks down the stairs and across the courtyard. The Company watch him leave.

“Would it be too late to release the halfling from the contract?”

The Company looks at Bombur before breaking out into arguing. Thorin sighed deeply, headache building again at the events from the day. “Quiet! All of you!”

The Company hushed themselves and looked to Thorin. Thorin looked to all of them, contemplative. “We will wait to pass judgement until Master Baggins can explain it.”

A few in the Company scoff and Thorin looks to Nori.

“Problem Nori?”

Nori shrugs, “I’m not expecting honesty from the halfling who went back on his word after saying he’d go. With him also changing his mind again in the morning.” A few in the Company nod in agreement with a few ‘exactly’s’ throw in for good measure. Thorin sighs, he knew he’d forgotten to tell them something. 

“Master Baggins was unaware we would be showing up until the day of and even then the wizard did not inform him of what we would be there for.”

The Company stare for a long moment. “That damned wizard.” “I wouldn’t have wanted us in either!” “We stole from his pantry.” “No wonder!”

Thorin watches the Company speak amongst themselves for a long moment before holding up a hand which the Company immediately silenced themselves for, “Either way we can ask when he rejoins us. I’m sure he’s getting himself clean-”

“Absolutely covered in blood!”

Thorin sighed, “And we can ask why he didn’t inform us or show off his fighting prowess.”

The Company seemed cheered at that last one. Bifur cheerfully signed out something Thorin didn’t quite catch while the rest of the Company commenting various versions of ‘Didn’t think he had it in him.’ Thorin shook his head fondly and settled himself next to his nephews as they spoke in quiet tones about the halfling.

~~~~~~

Gandalf followed Lord Elrond into his chambers and sighed. “I see you still aren’t over what happened in Mordor.”

Elrond fixed him with an unimpressed glare. Gandalf only watched him quite merrily from where he stood. 

“Why did he come? I don’t understand why he joined us after all we’d done.”

“Because he did not want the enemy to win.”

“The enemy created him.”

“But the enemy did not give him life and purpose, Elrond.”

Elrond turned away sharply, “The Valar let them die for a reason.”

“And he still lives for a reason.”

Elrond did not respond as he stared far into the distance. Gandalf let out a weary sigh, “The fate of this world has long relied on the willingness of his kin to fight when they are called; do not throw away the progress of ages for old prejudices.”

Elrond said nothing as Gandalf left. 

~~~~~~

Bilbo had once loved this valley, when it was wild and no one dared settle it. The architecture of the Elves was beautiful, fitting into the valley naturally and not restricting the natural waterways. When they’d first begun to settle that’d been his biggest worry, along with the fear they’d disturb the doorway, but they’d been careful. The valley was gorgeous, but Bilbo longed for days long passed when it had been wild and no one dare lay claim.

Bilbo huffed out a breath and looked out to where he knew the door lay hidden. It was undisturbed, the seal still strong, but he could feel it beckoning him home. He rubbed a hand over his heart absentmindedly, grimacing at the reminder of the blood he was soaked with. He almost gagged as he pulled his hand away from his chest, covered in black blood. He sighed and pulled himself away from the view as he walked towards the bathhouses. 

The cheers and yells he could hear alerted him exactly to who was using them and he walked in to see the Wolves bathing and grooming themselves and each other. Several groups had broken up and were helping each other with hair or piercings. 

A few greeted him when he walked in but not many noticed. He stripped and submerged himself in the water quickly. When he emerged Thyme was watching him from the edge of the large pool and he fake gagged, “Thank the Valar for enchanted Elvish pools.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes, “Were you any better off?”

Thyme scoffed, “Well I didn’t slit a warg from front to back when it jumped over me, so……”

Bilbo huffed before dunking himself back in the water. When he felt he’d scrubbed himself enough he came back up and made his way to the edge of the pool. Thyme held up his hand and Bilbo turned his back to show his consent. He soon felt hands in his hair as Thyme worked carefully to untangle and work out the dirt a simple scrub wouldn’t get out. 

As Thyme worked he hummed, and Bilbo found himself relaxing further and further as his nephew worked on his hair. Soon his eyes closed and he drifted off.

~~~~~~

When he wakes from his brief nap Thyme is no longer behind him and the baths have mostly cleared. He lets out a long sigh and stands slowly. There is no chill in the air but he still shivers. Beneath him there is an echo and a call that he has not felt for many years. It is homely and familiar, yet not. The emptiness echoing replaces any warmth with cold dread. 

He shakes his head slowly and gets out of the water, grabbing one of the left out towels and drying himself off. 

“ _Vanwa nassë._ "1

Bilbo turned, the few Wolves left stopped their tasks and talking to look over. One of Elrond’s Elves stood in the entrance to the bath house, eyes darting over the Wolves nervously after the abrupt lack of noise. They turned back to Bilbo. “Lord Elrond wished to invite you to join him for dinner.” They glanced at the Wolves, “He also wanted to extend an invitation to ten of your fellows should you accept.”

Bilbo thought for a long moment before nodding, slipping into habit. “That would be most agreeable. What time should we be there?”

“Someone shall retrieve you.”

Bilbo paused before nodding, “Very well.” 

The elf nodded as well before turning sharply and leaving. 

Bilbo watched them go before turning to the Wolves. “Anyone want to wreck Elrond’s dinner with sarcastic comments, hidden insults, and outright insults at each other?”

He got a few laughs and head shakes. 

“We’re not Hobbits. If we’re going to ruin dinner we’re doing it outright!”

More chuckles and a few well meaning whistles as everyone got back to their tasks after Veriam’s words. 

Veriam was repairing parts of her armour and she winked at him. “If you asked my Aunts they’d love to, get your Nieces and Nephew in on it as well, and then three more.” Veriam smirked, “That should stir up just enough trouble when the moon rises.”

Bilbo laughed and nodded, “Now to find clothes.”

Veriam hummed, “Go find Sage, she’s got something for you."

"We just got here. How?"

Veriam shook her head, a twinkle in her chocolate eyes, as she went back to work.

~~~~~~

The invite to dinner was not unexpected at all, and it came at a good moment as the Company was getting antsy. Complaining of their hunger and arguing about dwarrow hospitality. The Elves that had come to retrieve them seemed annoyed, but composed. Looking mostly ignorant and inattentive, despite being the exact opposite, as they led them to food. 

When the Company entered the open dining room, how ridiculous, there were tables set up for them, low to the ground and the Company would be sitting on cushions on the floor. Not normal accommodations for guests, or for Elves if Elrond’s high table was anything to go by, but Thorin wasn’t about to speak up. Their halfling hadn’t shown yet and Thorin could feel a pit in his stomach. What if he’d been injured? What if the black blood had hidden his own?

Before Thorin’s thoughts got too concerned Elrond had motioned them to tables. The Company filled them easily, although there were a few cushions left over, but Thorin didn’t think about it long as he sat with Elrond and Gandalf at the higher table. When he sat down and glanced over the room he noticed even more cushions organized on the edge of the room in pairs of two with small tables next to them. 

He didn’t look long before turning his attention back to Elrond, he may despise Elves but he could at least be cordial to a degree. Elrond was looking to the entryway where the Company had come from. 

“Much has changed if the _Muig Gwanu_ are late.”2 Elrond said as soon as he saw Thorin watching him. Thorin did not say anything as he wracked his brain for the small amount of Sindarin he’d learned before Erebor had fallen. Across from him Gandalf chuckled, “They will arrive when they mean to and not a moment sooner.”

Elrond did not comment, only turned to address an elf over his shoulder before looking back to the doorway. 

“Ahh. Right on time.” Gandalf smiled and Thorin looked over to the entrance as well. 

Two Elleths entered, and behind them-

Thorin’s breath caught, the halfling. He wore an unfamiliar armor, scaled and jeweled in a way that glittered only if the light hit it just right. Deep greens and yellows faded in and out of black complimenting the copper-gold tones in his hair. Although the subtle wolf embellishments in the design seemed a bit odd, they didn’t take away from the design. The armor would have never worked for dwarrow or elf, but on Master Baggins it was like a work of Mahal.

He briefly took his eyes off of the halfling to check the reactions of his Company and they were in a similar state to him, gleams in their eyes or shock on their faces. None had expected it, nor would they have thought to. Master Baggins may have shown up soaked in the blood of the enemy, but to wear armor like this- Honoured indeed.

Thorin tore his eyes away as Master Baggin’s Nieces and Nephew came into view and stopped behind their Uncle. They wore similar styles, although the armor was not of the same quality and make as their Uncle’s. They had no animal on theirs, nor the glimmer of his. Theirs did not have the same scaled pattern either. They had not worn armor before this, and Thorin wondered where and why they’d kept it hidden.

Behind the halfling’s came Variam and Arvice, normal and completely ordinary. But with them. Thorin recognized the purple cloaks immediately. The three had been sitting before and Thorin had never expected them to be as tall as they were, having to duck slightly to make it through the arch. Their faces were still obscured but now that Thorin had a closer look at them he wondered what they could be. Large and muscled, the tallest broader than the other two who flanked them on either side as they stood behind the line of halflings. 

“Lord Elrond.”

From next to him the Elvish Lord twitched, “ _Yavannildi Varno._ ”3

The halfling stared at him steadily before his head tilted slightly and the Wolves scattered. 

The three in purple settled themselves in the various corners Thorin had seen set up with those tables. The halfling’s grabbed their own table, minus Rose who settled herself on the fourth empty cushion next to the largest of those in purple. 

Variam and Arvice settled themselves with his Company, together of course. Master Baggins approached the high table and took the empty seat between Elrond and Gandalf. “Unfortunately Many will not be joining us, I’ve been asked to stand in their place as a representative. They will be back tomorrow after their errand.”

Elrond nodded, “I was unaware they were with your party, I thought the duties of a warlord would keep them far too busy.” It was said evenly, almost offhandedly as Elrond motioned for food to begin being brought out. Thorin narrowed his eyes, Many didn’t seem like warlord material. 

The halfling smiled, “I wouldn’t know, the kingdom has long been prosperous and no longer requires as much work as restoration did.” he nodded politely at the elf who placed a plate of green in front of him, “Especially when having to redo a whole governmental system that was built around a tyrant.” He sipped his water slowly and Thorin could see Elrond trying to just breathe it out instead of comment further. Interesting. 

Thorin glanced over the room again, the Company was obviously not happy with the food while the Wolves ate with relish, clean but quickly. In particular the halflings seemed to enjoy the meal. Arvice and Variam were eating as well, neat and quick. Variam was slower but a few words from Arvice seemed to rejuvenate her and they kept pace with each other.

The others on the edge of the room were similar, the larger figures had been given substantially more food, but they ate quickly. Rose was the only halfling moving slowly, the one she’d sat with offering her bites from their own when she stopped eating. 

“We found weapons in a troll hoard. Perhaps you could tell us more about them?” Gandalf prompted and Thorin turned his attention back quickly. The halfling was eating a second portion and stopped briefly before continuing, finishing up and looking out across the room. Eyes keen and glowing in the evening light as he sat there. 

Thorin turned his attention back to Elrond, with a slight shake of his head. 

~~~~~~

Kíli had never felt attraction in the typical way. While everyone talked about great beards and short statures he’d been more interested in taller with little or no beard. For a long time he’d just thought himself to be more attracted to personality than looks but after meeting so many of his own people who he connected with but didn’t find attractive he’d begun looking elsewhere. 

The many men and women he’d met in the towns around Ered Luin had been much more to his fancy, but he’d never been able to personally connect with any. He got along with plenty, he had to when he worked in the forges but he’d never been really attracted to any of them; personality or otherwise and he’d stepped back. He’d find his One when he found them and they would most likely be Dwarrow or from the race of Man. That was just fine.

At least it was until he’d gotten to meet Variam and Arvice, a dwarrow-dam and an elf-maid that were married and quite happily in love if the careful way they’d tend to each other was anything to go by. Dwarrow highly regarded hair and although he was unsure if it was the same for Elves he’d still never seen two lovers be so careful and loving as they braided each other's hair. 

Meeting them had been a bit of a catalyst. No one else had heard Variam complaining as they went back in the line, about how the Company had looked as if Variam did not know who Mahal had made her to be with, but Kíli did. Hearing that had made Kíli take a step back from his original thoughts. 

Although he knew it was completely possible to have an elf for a One it was taboo in some ways and many traditionalists would say they were enchanted or captured through the mind. Old beliefs and no one really believed but it was still frowned on. He’d pushed the thought from his mind after remembering his Uncle’s opinion on Elves. His One wasn’t an elf. He didn’t even like Elves! So he’d moved past it and contented himself to wait. He just had to wait.

But then they’d entered the Valley of Imladris. It had been under less than ideal circumstances, and he hadn’t noticed at first through the panic but the Elves were beautiful. Tall and elegant, skilled as well. Kíli had been captivated. He’d also been caught watching and several Elves had smiled at him. Some had been kinder than others, but many had seemed to enjoy his curiosity with little embarrassment. A few had even winked, but he felt that was more to fluster him. Which was fair, he was young to them and his reactions had to be humorous to them, even if to him he was just going through a crisis but anyways.

They were at dinner. Mister Boggins entrance had left an effect on several of the Company and quite a few were trying to either piece out where that had been hidden or why it had been hidden. Others had mentioned the quality of the armour in comparison to his kins and even the other Wolves. It had left quite a few members of the Company confident in him while it had made others more cautious. Kíli hadn’t really gotten in on the conversation. He’d been kind of making eyes with an elf across the room. 

They’d seemed interested but then Kíli had caught Dwalin staring and he’d felt a pit sink in his stomach. Dwalin would go tell his Uncle. He’d half-panicked at Dwalin’s comment. Blabbering something out and being embarrassed when Dwalin had replied until he heard Variam and Arvice from the other side of the table. 

“Truthfully an elf and dwarrow are amongst the better matched pairs.” Variam had said loudly, eyes catching Kíli’s when he looked over and she winked at him. “Although no one can judge who the Valar say you belong with.”

“Very true, my family lost their only child because of their prejudice and I never looked back.” Arvice chimed in as she sipped her wine. “Never regretted it either. They’d have had me forget or waste away because I did not love who they thought I should.”

Several Elves around them winced subtly and shifted. 

“Mine too. Lost their only daughter and had the audacity to send me a letter requesting I come home without you Ghivashel.” Variam addressed that last part to Arvice who leaned slightly into her. 

“Oh well,” Avrice’s forehead touched Variam’s, long black hair mixing with white, “we’re better off. Questioning the Valar about the hearts of their creations has never worked well for anyone.”

The Company went a little quiet and Dwalin looked suitably chastised as the two lovers continued with their food. Beside him Fíli smiled and winked at him. Kíli smiled back, it’d be just fine.

~~~~~~

Dinner continued, the Company’s complaints about the food were quite loud. Bilbo understood it wasn't what they were used to or would eat and he knew Elrond was simply holding back to be annoying. But there was a time to be petty and a time to reach out. Now would have been a great time, but no. 

He subtly readjusted himself, either way it didn’t matter. The Company was well on their way to ruining dinner and he barely had to lift a finger. He sent Sage and Holly an apologetic smile. No subtle snipes at the dinner food. The dwarves had that handled. 

“- _Métima nassë_ -” Bilbo glanced at the Elves whispering on the far side of the room.4. They noticed his gaze and looked away. 

“I had wondered-” Elrond began and Bilbo internally sighed, “why one would remain with a Company of dwarrow when you have come upon your own kin?”

“I signed a contract-”

Elrond hummed and Bilbo stopped and reiterated, aware of Thorin’s ever watching eyes on him. “I have dedicated myself to the Company and have promised them my help. I do not break my own vows lightly unlike others in this world.”

Small huff from Elrond, “That’s not-”

“If you’re going to say ‘fair’ Elrond I ask you not.”

The silence stretched, tension growing as the Company complained louder. Thorin glanced over to his kin, 

“There’s an inn, there’s an inn-” that was Bofur, of course. 

The whole Company picked up the tune and clapped along. Thorin was smiling, happiness in his eyes as he looked at his people. Elrond seemed mildly amused, but was looking at Bilbo. “After all they’ve done?”

Thorin’s eyes moved back but Bilbo kept himself composed, “After all you’ve done?”

Elrond narrowed his eyes, “They-”

“You.”

Elrond huffed. Thorin was looking between the two. Bofur’s song is still being sung in the back. Gandalf was watching the two with a slight furrow. Not confused, just watching. Probably disappointed actually.

Elrond’s voice raised, “They torched-”

“You did too!” Bilbo matched him in volume and across the room he could see his kin raising their heads. Several Elves were definitely listening in, looking like they’d caught their friends' family fighting and didn’t know what to do. The Company was still singing, although Variam and Arvice were gaining attention after they abruptly stopped eating to look to the high table. Thorin was beginning to catch on, even if only a little as he stared at Bilbo. 

“They started-” Elrond’s voice was almost a yell now and several of the Company had caught on, “-one of the worst massacres of Yavanna’s children-” the music had stopped and the Company had stopped in their tracks.

“And you finished it! Elrond, you! The hypocrite!” Bilbo stood and walked off from the platform, anger bubbling inside of him. His kin had stood now, good moods long gone as they stared between the two. “I could even argue that you!” he wheeled back around, “-started it!”

“The Elves have always hated the races created by my kin! You’ve always regarded them as lesser!” Bilbo was spitting mad now, feeding off of old anger. “Your words poisoned the minds of our neighbors against us and it is because of you they attacked our homes near Anduin!”

“I have never-” Elrond started. 

“Don’t.” Elrond stared at him for a long moment as Bilbo gathered his thoughts. “You started, even if not physically, the massacre of Yavanna’s children. You are the reason the creations I designed with Yavanna are dead. Because of a past my people, and not the Holbyta’s, could not control.” Bilbo had calmed now, but his anger still bubbled under the surface. “You may not have started it Elrond but you are damned if you don’t admit to finishing it.”

The silence in and of itself was damning. Bilbo let it sit, content to stew in the silence. The Company was still shocked. They didn’t move, no one spoke. The Wolves had stood, anxious at the mood and the lowering sun. Thorin was staring in horror, perhaps having caught on to what Bilbo had implied if not outright stated and Gandalf mostly looked exhausted. 

Bilbo nodded, “Good.” He turned quickly. The sun’s final rays disappeared from view and the transformation overtook the Wolves. The Elves were horrified and many went for weapons not there as the Wolves completed their change. Bilbo did not turn around to see Elrond’s expression. “Many will be here tomorrow and when she arrives I will be entering the old gates.” 

Bilbo finally looked over, Elrond’s expression was the closest to horror he’d ever seen. “If you step a foot anywhere near the old gates I will kill you and let myself be damned for harming a free race.” the resounding growls around him, promising the same from them.

Elrond looked away and Bilbo whistled sharply. “Wolves! Come!”

He turned again and walked out, the Wolves following neatly and calmly as they walked down the stairs to join the others.

~~~~~~

Thorin felt like his throat had been sewn shut for all that he could breathe. The room was dead silent and Thorin had never felt such tension, even on the edge of battle. It was choking and he felt weighted down. What in the name of Mahal had that been?

The halfling’s words had changed everything. A million questions going through his head. Elrond looked angry, although it was quickly fading into what might’ve been guilt on anyone else. The Elven Lord looked away before standing, “Excuse me. I hope you will enjoy the hospitality of Imladris.” He walked away quickly, much too brisk to be a walk.

Thorin turned to Gandalf who only sighed. “They do not have a good past.”

From somewhere in the room there was a scoff, “That’s a bit more than not having a good past.”

Gandalf only vaguely nodded. 

“What-” Ori had spoken, stopping. “What were they talking about?”

Gandalf only shook his head, “They were talking about many things young Master Ori.”

Thorin almost growled. “Stop speaking in riddles.”

Gandalf looked at him. “The only one who could give you that history is Bilbo. I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Did he say massacre? I heard massacre in there somewhere.” 

Dwalin scoffed at Fíli. “I think ‘designed with Yavanna’ should have been the focus there.”

“He said a past his people, not Holbyta’s, couldn’t control.” Bofur interjected in.

“He isn’t a halfling?” Ori asked and the Company looked between each other. 

“What if he’s one of these Holbyta’s?” Bombur asked but beside him Bifur shook his head and began speaking rapidly.

“ **Aren't Holbyta’s what the men near the Blue Mountains call halflings?** ”

The Company nodded, “Bifur has a point.” Balin added and they all stared at each other in confusion. “So he helped Yavanna make them?”

Balin shook his head, “The Valar make on their own. One can never influence them. Perhaps he misspoke. Perhaps the men are speaking of another race long dead.” 

Balin paused with a sigh. "We can not be certain. We can ask-”

“When?” They looked to Glóin, “He’s been avoiding us. He doesn’t speak.”

“Well can we blame him?”

The Company looked to Ori who slightly shifted at the attention before going ahead. “We’ve treated him terribly. We stormed into his home, we ate his food, we didn’t listen to him, we ignored his complaints and treated him like an outsider-”

“Because he is!”

Ori ignored Bombur, “Can you blame him?” The Company thought for a long moment until Ori continued, “If what Elrond implies is true than he has more reason than any other to be weary of us.”

The Company nodded before Dori spoke up, “And what did he imply?”

Ori stayed silent.

“That my line has done the unspeakable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this! I hope you like it! Below I have translations for the Sinndarin and Quenya used, however I want it to be noted that they are spoilers just a little. If you'd like to figure it out with the rest you can. But the translations are below! Thank you and I apologize if they're off. I'm doing my best. 
> 
> Quenya:  
> 1.) Vanwa nassë - Lost One  
> 3.) Yavannildi Varno - Protector of the Followers of Yavanna  
> 4.) Métima nassë - Last One
> 
> Sindarin:  
> 2.) Muig Gwanu - Gentle Death
> 
> Also if you know when Quenya and Sindarin became popular you can get a hint towards time frames.

**Author's Note:**

> I will admit I'm mostly having fun with this one and messing around with vague ideas from canon and fanon, so I hope you'll enjoy the next update. A comment to tell me what you think or just a kudos would be much appreciated, so please interact so I can see what everyone thinks.


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